Little Deanie & big brother Sammy
by 6Darkest6Angel6
Summary: A collection of de-aged!Dean one-shots. Ch12- Little Dean has a nice happy day, until he has an accident with a mousetrap.
1. Be brave

**BE BRAVE**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean**

**Not in the same 'verse as Dean's unca Bee-bee/UBLM or the little Deanie verse.**

**Written for ****a prompt ****in the ****Dean-focused h/c comment-fic meme (#4)**  
**PROMPT: Dean is de-aged, and can't be turned back for awhile, so Sam has to take him to the doctors for his jabs but Dean freaks out when the dr comes near him with a needle, so Sam has to calm him down.**

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Dr Jackson. I see from Dean's notes here, that he's due for his vaccinations. Is that right?" asked the young doctor, looking through a small book.

"Yeah," said Sam, holding his three year old brother to his chest. "It's not gonna hurt him, is it?"

"No, it won't hurt him," Dr Jackson reassured him. "We'll give him the first one now, and the next one in a week."

Sam sighed, and looked down at the little boy, who was busy playing with his toy car, and giggling when he drove it over Sam.

"Hey kiddo, we need to take your jacket off, okay?"

"Why Sammy?" asked Dean, bottom lip pouting slightly.

"The doctor needs your arm, he's gonna do something so that you won't get sick."

"Awight den," agreed Dean, giving his car to his brother to look after.

While Sam helped Dean out of his jacket, the doctor went to get the equipment he needed. "There we go," he said, tweaking the little freckled nose.

Dean giggled up at Sam, but his eyes went wide in horror when he saw the doctor sitting next to him holding a needle. "SAMMY! SAMMY! HE DIE ME!"

"Hey hey hey," said Sam, wrapping Dean in his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest. "He isn't gonna kill you."

"HE DO, SAMMY! HE GOTS SHARP FINGY! HE DIE ME!" screamed Dean, bursting into tears.

"Shh. I'm not going to let him hurt you, baby. Anyone even thinks about hurting you, I'll rip their head off, okay?" When Dean continued sobbing, Sam stroked his hair. "I promise you nobody will hurt you, they'll have to get passed me first."

Dean sniffled, clinging onto Sam's shirt. "B-But he gots sharp fingy."

"I know, but he's going to help you."

"NOOOOOOO!" cried Dean, burying his face in Sam's chest. "Not sharp fingy."

"Listen to me, have I ever let anyone hurt you?"

Dean wiped his face, and shook his head. "N-No Sammy," he whispered, looking up at Sam with huge watery eyes, his bottom lip trembling.

"Well, I'm not gonna let the doctor hurt you. I promise." Sam smiled, and kissed Dean's tear streaked cheek. "Are you gonna be brave for me?"

"B-Bwave?" asked Dean, putting his finger in his mouth.

"I'll tell you what... you be very brave for me, and let the doctor give you an injection... and on the way home we'll get some ice cream." Sam lowered his head to whisper in Dean's ear, "And go to the toy store."

Dean gasped, a big smile lighting up his face. "Toy and.. and ice ceem?"

"Yep. So are you gonna show the doctor how brave you can be?"

Dean took a deep breath, and turned to look at the needle. "Y-You wook after me?" he asked, grabbing Sam's big hand tightly in his small one.

"Of course I'm gonna look after you."

"And... and h-he not die me?" asked Dean, making sure.

"I promise, little brother."

Dean took another deep breath and nodded. "Kay big buver." When Dr Jackson came closer, Dean hid his face against Sam's chest again, and scrunched his eyes closed.

"Shh, it's alright," soothed Sam when Dean started whimpering. He ran his hand up and down Dean's shaking back, and lowered his head so his lips were touching Dean's ear. He softly sang the theme to one of Dean's favourite shows, "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?"

Dean stopped whimpering, and relaxed slightly when he heard the familiar song. "S-Spoonbob scarepants," he whispered, sniffling.

"Absorbent and yellow and porous is he." As he sang, Sam nodded at the doctor, who wheeled his chair closer to the brothers.

"Spoonbob scarepants."

"If nautical nonsense be something you wish."

Dean giggled. "Spoonbob scarepants." He was so busy singing with his brother that he didn't even notice the needle enter his arm.

"There we go," said Dr Jackson after a second, taping a little cotton ball to the injection site.

"Do it?" asked Dean, raising his head to look down at his arm.

"Yeah, Wasn't so bad was it?"

Dean shook his head, and looked up at Sam with wide eyes. "He not hurt me, Sammy," he whispered in awe.

"See? I told you I wouldn't let him hurt you."

Dean started bouncing on Sam's knee, and clapping in excitement. "We gets ice ceem and toy pees?"

"Of course we can, my brave little solider," said Sam. "I'm very proud of you."

"Don't forget this," said the doctor, holding out a red lollipop.

Dean gasped, and took it. "Ooooh. Fank you."

"You're welcome. I always give a lollipop to my bravest patients."

Dean giggled again, and sucked on the lollipop while Sam got him ready into his jacket.

"Right, say bye then," said Sam, standing up with Dean in his arms.

Dean smiled shyly, and waved at the doctor. "Bye bye. Fank you not die me."

Sam laughed, and kissed Dean's nose. "What am I gonna do with you?" he asked fondly.

***The end***

**Hope you like  
**


	2. Bye bye tonsils

**BYE BYE TONSILS**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean**

**Written for a prompt in the ****Dean-focused h/c comment-fic meme (#4)**  
**PROMPT: A de-aged Dean has to have a simple operation (appendix, tonsils, ear-tubes, whatever). He's okay with it. Sam? Not so much.  
****  
**"A tonsillectomy?" asked Sam, staring at the doctor. "You mean surgery?"

"Yes Sam," answered the doctor for the second time.

"But... but he's only three years old... He turned three just a few months ago, he can't..."

"He's had tonsillitis for over three weeks now, they need to come out before he gets even sicker."

Sam frowned, and looked down at the sick little boy laying in his arms wrapped in his blanket, fast asleep. "B-But what if it goes wrong? What if something happens to him?"

Dr Matthews sighed. "A tonsillectomy is a simple procedure, I know you're worried about your little brother, but he'll be okay. I have performed this surgery hundreds of times, and never had any complaints. If your brother doesn't get them removed, he's only going to keep getting sick."

Sam nodded, and held Dean a little tighter. "Okay, book him an appointment."

Dr Matthews smiled, and checked through his diary. "Okie dokie, the earliest time I can fit him in is... Three days. It'll give him a little more time to kick his cold, luckily it's clearing up so he should be recovered in time."

Sam nodded again, stroking Dean's flushed cheek. "Can he go home until then, or does he have to stay in hospital?"

"I see no reason why he can't go home for tonight, but bring him back in a couple of days, and we'll perform the tonsillectomy the next morning."

"Thanks doctor," said Sam, standing, and shaking the other mans hand.

"You're welcome, just keep giving him plenty of fluids, even if he doesn't feel like drinking. And don't forget the medication. If there are any problems, bring him in earlier."

"Okay." Sam looked down at Dean when he started coughing. "Shh," he soothed, rocking him from side to side in his arms. "I've got you baby, Sammy's got you."

The coughing fit lasted almost a minute, before Dean fell back to sleep in Sam's arms.

When Dean was settled, Sam smiled at the doctor, and headed to the door.

Dr Matthews got up, and opened the door for him. "There you go."

"Thanks a lot," said Sam, carrying his brother back to the Impala, where Bobby was waiting to drive them back to his place.

Bobby looked worriedly at his boys when Sam climbed into the backseat with Dean still cradled in his arms. "How is he?" he asked, starting the Impala.

"He has to have a tonsillectomy in a few days," Sam replied, stroking Dean's hot cheek.

Dean whimpered, and shifted slightly, snuggling closer to his big brother's warm chest. Little eyebrows met as the tiny Winchester frowned, his little hand wandered out from the warmth of the blanket and went searching for his brother.

Sam caught the hand, and held it gently in his free hand. "Shh, it's alright," he whispered, adjusting the blanket so Dean didn't get cold.

"S'my?" croaked Dean, opening his green eyes slightly. He whimpered again and his breathing hitched as he started crying.

Sam frowned worriedly, and sat Dean up so his little head rested against his shoulder, and he could hug him properly. "Shh baby, it's okay," he soothed, stroking Dean's trembling back.

The heartbroken cries of the sick little Winchester broke the silence, and the two men's hearts.

"H'rt S'my," whispered Dean, looking up at Sam with big round tearful eyes. Tears spilled over his eyes, and down his freckled cheeks.

Sam gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, wincing in sympathy at the pain and misery reflected in the green orbs. "Shh. I know it hurts, but the doctor will make you better."

Dean nodded, not really understanding. His little freckled nose scrunched up, before he sneezed over Sam's neck. "S-S-Sowwy."

"Hey, no need to say sorry." Sam pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped Dean's little red nose carefully. Not only did the poor kid have tonsillitis but he also had a cold too, which was now finally almost cleared up. "There we go, little snotty monster," he said, before gently kissing the tiny nose.

Dean smiled, and hid his face shyly.

"Hey, since you're awake, how would you like some ice cream when we get home?"

Dean sniffled, and coughed. "Stawbewwy?" he whispered, since he could hardly talk anymore.

"Of course strawberry. Do you want some sprinkles on too, how about a glass of milk?"

"Not spinkwes."

"Alright then, no sprinkles." Sam continued stroking Dean's flushed cheek gently until Bobby pulled up outside his house.

Sam waited until Bobby opened the door for him so he could climb out. "Thanks," he said, carrying Dean inside.

Bobby walked in-front of Sam, and rearranged the quilt and the mountain of pillows on the couch, so Sam could lay his brother down in his daytime bed. "I'll be back in a sec," said the older man, before heading upstairs.

"Down you go," said Sam, laying Dean down, and covering him up.

Dean watched Sam as he plumped the pillows and wrapped him in the blanket and quilt. "F-Fank you."

Sam smiled, and kissed the warm forehead. "You're welcome." He picked up the teddy on the floor, and held it up so Dean could see him. "I've got a friend who wants to see you," he said, before tickling Dean's face and neck with the fluffy dog.

Dean giggled a little, his sore throat making it sound like he had swallowed glass, but it warmed Sam's heart anyway.

"M-Mr Woofy," said Dean, holding his little arms out to take his favourite teddy.

Sam lifted the quilt, and placed the teddy in Dean's arms. "Keep your arms in there, so you don't get cold. I'll go get you some ice cream, okay? I'll be back in a sec."

"M-Miss you." Dean smiled shyly up at Sam, holding Mr Woofy tightly, looking all adorable with his big puppy dog eyes, which should belong to the dog teddy he held.

"I'll miss you too. But I'll be back in a few seconds, okay? I'll get you some milk too."

Dean nodded, and waited for his big brother to come back.

"Here we go," said Sam, coming back into the room with a bowl of ice cream and Dean's Barney cup. "I had to give you juice, we've ran out of milk."

"'Kay, Sammy," whispered the sick little boy, patting the couch. "Wiv me pees?"

"Sure," said Sam, placing the bowl and cup on the table. He sat on the couch sideways, and lifted his brother so he was laying back on his chest. "Are you comfy?" he asked, reaching over for the things he needed for Dean.

"Yeah. W-Woves you."

Sam kissed the tiny freckled nose. "Love you more." He dipped the spoon in the ice cream and started flying the spoon around. "NEEEEOOOOOOW! Open up."

Dean smiled, and opened his mouth so Sam could slip the spoon inside. "Y-Yummy yummy," he said around a mouthful.

Bobby came back down to see his boys on the couch together. "How is he?"

"Well, he likes the ice cream," Sam told him with a smile.

"Stawbewwy," mumbled Dean around the spoon.

Bobby chuckled and sat in his chair. "Do ya want anything else, Deano?"

Dean nodded, eyes going round and sad. "Get better."

"Shh. You'll be better very soon," Sam told him in a soothing voice.

"W-When Sammy?" asked Dean miserably, licking his lips before eating another spoonful.

Sam finished feeding Dean the ice cream before answering. "You know when I said the doctor is going to make you better?" he asked, cupping Dean's cheek gently in one big hand.

Dean nodded, looking up at his big brother.

"He'll be giving you an operation to take your tonsils out."

Dean frowned, an adorably confused expression crossing his little face. "What opiwaysum? Hurt me?"

Sam smiled, and softly started running his thumb over the freckled cheek. "No baby. It won't hurt you, if it was gonna hurt you, I wouldn't let them do it. It's only a really small operation and it'll make you better."

"How make better?" asked the little boy, tightening his grip on his teddy.

"You know those nasty tonsils that are making your throat hurt?" He waited until Dean nodded. "They'll take those out and it'll stop hurting. We can say bye bye tonsils and bye bye sore throat. You'll be all better."

Dean frowned when he noticed tears swimming in Sam's eyes. "What matter?"

Sam sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I'm just a little scared," he admitted.

"Why scared, Sammy?"

"I know it's only a simple procedure, but it really scares me that you have to have an operation."

Dean smiled sweetly up at his big brother, and grabbed his hand in his tiny one. "I not scared. I-I bwave."

Sam laughed, and lifted their joined hands to kiss Dean's little fingers. "God, I love you."

"Wo- Hstch-chuh... Huhh…PTSHCH! KTSHSHchuh!" sneezed the sick little boy. "I choo'd"

"I've got you," said Sam, wiping Dean's red nose gently.

Dean sniffled, and laid his head on Sam's chest. "I sick."

"I know, baby I know." Sam kissed the soft blond hair, and tightened his hold on the little body. "Just... get better soon, okay? I don't like it when you're sick."

"Why?" asked Dean, eyes fluttering closed.

"Because it makes me really sad. So I'm going to give you an important job... you get better, and be back to the happy little jumping bean we all know and love, and we'll go to the park and have a picnic, okay?"

When Dean didn't answer, Sam's head shot up. "Dean? Are you alright?"

"It's alright Sam, he's gone back to sleep."

Sam closed his eyes, and sighed in relief. "Thank god." He curled around his brother, and held him to his chest like a teddy bear.

The little boy hugged his own teddy, and started making little snuffly noises as he breathed through his congested little nose.

"Awww. Bobby, listen," said Sam, waving his hand at the older man. "Listen."

"Listen to what, ya mad idjit?"

"Can you hear how he's breathing, it's so cute."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "If ya say so."

Sam laid there watching Dean sleep for several minutes, before closing his own eyes. Dean shifted slightly so he was laying on his side, snuggling closer to Sam's chest.

Without opening his eyes, Sam adjusted the covers making sure Dean stayed warm. "Sweet dreams baby."

It wasn't long before Sam fell asleep, his sick little brother in his arms.

* * *

** *Three days later***

* * *

Luckily Dean's cold had cleared up completely, so the tonsillectomy could go ahead.

Dean remained brave up until the moment they had to take him away for the operation.

"Noooooo. Sammy not weave," he cried, clinging onto his shirt, little face nuzzling Sam's neck. "Scared." It wasn't the operation that he was scared of; he knew it would make him better, what scared him was that his big brother wasn't allowed to go with him.

"Hey hey, it's alright baby. I'm gonna be right here when you come out," Sam promised, holding Dean tightly to his chest, his head lowered slightly so he could hear what the little boy was saying. "Shh. I promise you."

"Come wiv me pees?" begged Dean, his voice almost gone, his green eyes huge and tearful, his bottom lip trembling.

Sam rested his cheek against the top of Dean's head, tears falling down his face and into the soft blond hair. "I can't, I have to stay here with uncle Bobby and Mr Woofy. But I'll be the first thing you see when you open your eyes."

"Want Sammy come."

"I want to stay with you too, but I can't when they're taking your tonsils out."

"Why?" cried the tiny Winchester, letting out heartbroken sobs, which gave way to a coughing fit.

Sam rubbed his back gently until it was over. "Shh," he soothed, looking up at the nurse, who was standing by the bed. "Could I stay with him while you put him out? So I don't have to leave him... while he's awake. He doesn't like to be alone, he hates hospitals."

The nurse smiled. "Of course. Come with me."

Sam nodded, and followed the nurse to the operating room with Dean cradled in his arms. "It's alright," he whispered. "I'm not leaving you." He walked into the room to see the nurse whispering into the doctors ear.

Dr Matthews turned and smiled at Sam. "Right then, I see Dean here is reluctant to let you go."

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Sure. It happens quite often," he said, nodding at the nurse. "Olivia's going to put a mask over Dean's face and start an IV."

"Is it okay if I hold him while you do that?"

"As long as you hold him still."

Sam nodded again, and sat down in a chair, Dean cradled to his chest.

Dean's big eyes searched the room, then turned to his big brother, the poor kid looked scared to death. "S'my," he whimpered, grabbing Sam's hand. "Not weave."

"I'm here baby, I'm not going anywhere." The look of fear didn't change, so Sam started to sing a song from one of Dean's favourite shows to him. "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family. With a great big hug, and a kiss from me to you..." Sam paused to give Dean a gentle hug, and kiss his little nose. "Won't you say you love me too?"

"W-Woves you," croaked Dean, smiling up at his big brother. He was no longer feeling scared, knowing his big brother wasn't leaving him. He didn't notice when the nurse placed a mask over his face and started the IV.

"I love you, you love me..." Sam continued singing to Dean until after his eyes fluttered closed and he went limp in his arms. He closed his eyes, it took everything in him not to break down there and then as he kissed the tiny hand gently.

"Okay Sam, we're ready."

Sam nodded, tears falling down his cheeks. "I love you little brother," he whispered, kissing the freckled cheek gently, and reluctantly placing his brother into the doctors arms.

"H-He'll be okay, right?" asked Sam in a shaky voice, taking Mr Woofy from the crook of Dean's arm and holding it tightly to his own chest.

"He'll be fine, Sam. The op will be over before you know it."

Sam took a deep breath, and watched Dean being laid on the bed, before the nurse led him out of the room.

"Don't worry, Sam. Everything will be fine."

Sam backed up until his back hit the wall where he sank to the floor, Dean's beloved teddy bear held tightly to his chest.

"Please god... look after him in there," he prayed, breaking down in tears.

**-An hour later-**

After the operation was over, Dr Matthews came out to see Sam and Bobby with a smile on his face.

Sam stood immediately. "Is he alright?" he asked urgently, hands tightening their grip on Dean's teddy.

"We've removed his tonsils without any problems."

Sam and Bobby sighed in relief. "Can I see him? I really need to see him," said Sam, eyes pleading with the doctor.

"He has been moved to recovery while the anaesthetic wears off, but you can go sit with him."

Sam nodded, and took off running. He knew where the recovery room was, he had been wandering the hospital while he waited for news on his little brother.

Bobby smiled at Sam's retreating back. "He's been worried out of his mind for his brother."

"A tonsillectomy is a very simple procedure."

"I know, but Dean could get a paper cut and Sam would probably panic about him bleeding to death. He's very protective of Dean, but those boys have been through a lot together."

Dr Matthews turned to lead Bobby to the room where Dean was.

In the recovery room, Sam burst through the door, nearly giving the young nurse a heart attack. "Dean?" he whispered, walking over to the bed, ignoring the nurse. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"The anaesthetic should wear off very soon."

Sam sat on Dean's bed, taking the small limp hand in both of his. "Sammy's here," he whispered, stroking Dean's hair.

Bobby and Dr Matthews walked in. "I'll leave you guys here with the nurse. I'll come back to see Dean before he goes home."

Sam looked up at the doctor. "Can he go home today?"

"Yes. It will take several hours for the anaesthetic to wear off completely, Dean can go home soon after that. But he'll have to rest and take it easy for a few days."

Sam smiled, and looked down at Dean, his eyes shining with tears. "Thanks for taking care of him."

"You're welcome. See you all later." The doctor turned, and left the family alone.

"Love you baby. Wake up soon, you hear me?" Sam whispered, kissing Dean's cheek. "I miss you already."

Bobby walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "He's alright, Sam."

"I know... but I just need to see him open his eyes, and smile at me." Sam didn't seem to notice anyone else in the room with him as he lifted the sleeping child into his arms. "Sammy's here," he whispered, adjusting Dean so he was curled up to his chest.

He needed to hold his brother, to convince himself he was okay. The past two nights he had terrible nightmares about something going terribly wrong and Dean not waking up. Sam wouldn't be able to relax until he saw his brother open his eyes, so he could see for himself that he was really alright.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sam felt the blanket covered form beginning to move.

"Dean, can you hear me?" Sam asked the little bundle in his arms.

"S-S'my?" mumbled Dean groggily, coming round.

Sam laughed in relief, and hugged Dean a little tighter. "I'm here, baby." He cupped Dean's cheek, and raised his head to see glazed green eyes looking up at him. "See? I told you I wasn't leaving."

"Good to see ya, Deano." Bobby smiled, and lifted Mr Woofy up. "We've got someone else who wants to see ya," he said, before placing the stuffed toy in Dean's arms.

"F'nk y-" Dean broke off, coughing.

"Hey, take it easy. Don't talk," said Sam, rubbing his back.

"Here, give him some of these," said the nurse, holding a cupful of ice chips out.

"Thanks." Sam took a couple and put them into Dean's mouth carefully. "This should help."

While Dean crunched on the ice, Sam laid his cheek against Dean's hair and started crying again, which startled Dean.

"Matter, S'my?" he croaked hoarsely. He still couldn't talk, but it didn't stop him from trying.

Sam shook his head, and held Dean a little tighter. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Not cwy, S'my," said Dean, raising his head weakly to kiss Sam's neck. "I-I not c-cwy." His head fell back again hitting Sam's chest, feeling too weak to hold his head up properly. "H'rt."

"Where? Where do you hurt?"

"Dere," whispered Dean, rubbing his throat, and under his chin.

Sam's head shot up to look at the nurse. "That's normal right?" he asked, panicking slightly.

"Don't worry, Sam. Everyone still has a little pain after a tonsillectomy. Try not to panic, okay?"

"My baby brother has just had surgery and he's in pain, what the hell do you want me to do?" asked Sam, wiping his remaining tears. He didn't want to cry anymore, he had cried enough. He had to take care of Dean right now.

Dean looked up at Sam through half-lidded and glazed eyes, and saw the tears still swimming in Sam's eyes. "S'my... sad?" he asked, his bottom lip trembling.

Sam wiped his face, and smiled down at Dean. "A little bit."

"Not sad..." whispered Dean, eyes fluttering closed, his little face nuzzled against Sam's neck. "Bw-Bwave."

Sam kissed Dean's nose, and watched him fall back to sleep in his arms. "You were very brave, baby."

Sam placed his big hand on Dean's small chest over his heart, so he could feel the beat against his fingertips.

"I'm so proud of you."  
**  
*The end***

**Hope you like  
**


	3. A little Halloween fright

**A LITTLE HALLOWEEN FRIGHT**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Written for a prompt for the Halloween/Autumn themed Dean-focused h/c comment fic meme on LJ.  
PROMPT: ****De-aged Dean is frightened when he sees (or thinks he sees) a ghost or monster on Halloween.**

"Ewmo... Ewmo," sang little Dean clapping and bouncing on the bed as he watched the little red puppet come on the TV.

Sam was in the shower, the bathroom door open in-case Dean needed him. Before getting in the shower, he had told Dean to stay on the bed and watch Sesame street. He had found out on the first day of the curse that younger Dean was apparently a big Sesame street fan, so while he was showering, he left his brother watching his favourite show.

Dean giggled when Elmo started dancing on the moon. "Funny," he whispered to himself through his giggles. He jumped when he heard a noise outside. Curiously, he pulled a chair out from under the little kitchen table, and brought it over to the window to stand on.

"Oooh," Dean whispered, pulling the curtain back to peek outside. He gasped, green eyes going wide when he saw a ghost right outside the window.

"OOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Dean screamed loudly.

In the shower, Sam jumped and nearly slipped in his shock at hearing Dean's high-pitched frightened scream. "DEAN!" he yelled, stopping the shower, and grabbing the towel. He shot over, and opened the door wide. "Dean?" he asked with a frown when he didn't see his brother anywhere in the room.

"Dean? Where are you, kiddo?" asked Sam, rushing around the motel room. "Come on, Dean. This isn't funny." Even though Dean was now only two nearly three, he wouldn't put it past him to start playing Halloween pranks on him.

Sam froze when he heard a noise from under the bed. "Dean?" he asked, walking over to kneel beside Dean's bed. Shaking his head, Sam pulled the sheet up. "Dean, What the hell do you-" he broke off when he took a look at his petrified brother curled up on the floor underneath his bed, shaking. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" He reached in, but stopped when Dean flinched and whimpered. "What happened?"

"D-D-Dey ooooooo, S-Sammy," Dean whispered through his trembling lips.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "There's a what now?"

"Oooooooo," repeated Dean, looking up at Sam through his big, round eyes which were swimming with tears.

"What's a oooooooo?" asked Sam, slowly reaching out to stroke the soft blond hair.

Dean flinched, and put his thumb in his mouth.

"It's alright, I'm here. Nothing will hurt you as long as I'm here. Come on, kiddo. It's alright," soothed Sam, crawling a little under the bed to reach for the little boy.

At first Dean fought him. "G-Get a-a-away."

"I'm not gonna hurt you, It's Sammy. I'll never hurt you." Sam carefully and gently brought the trembling two year old from under the bed and into his arms. "Now, what's an ooooooo?" he asked, running his hand comfortingly over Dean's small back, stroking the blond hair with the other.

Dean wrapped his little arms around Sam's still wet neck, and hid his tear-streaked face in his shoulder. "S-Scareded."

"Shh. No need to be scared. Just tell me what an ooooooo is," said Sam, brushing his little brother's floppy blond fringe from his forehead and gently kissed it. "It's alright."

"Um... D-Dere," whispered Dean, pointing a shaking finger over to the window.

Sam stood with Dean in his arms, smiling when he felt the little legs wrap themselves around his body as he walked over to the window. He stepped over the fallen chair, and pulled the curtain back slightly, and saw two kids wandering around the streets carrying candy, and wearing costumes. "What scared you, buddy?"

"Um..." Dean pulled his face away, and looked outside. He gasped, bursting into fresh tears when he saw what had scared him. "SAMMY!"

Sam bit his lip, struggling not to smile. "That's a ghost, Dean."

That was the wrong thing to say as Dean's eyes went even wider, and he breathed in deeply.

"Oh crap." Sam closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what he knew was coming.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! GHOSTIE!" screamed Dean, hiding his face in Sam's neck again.

Sam laughed, but immediately felt bad about it. "It's not real. It's just a kid in a costume. It's Halloween."

When Dean lifted his head, his bottom lip was trembling as he looked up at his now big brother. "H-Haweem?"

"Yeah, It's not a real ghost. There's no need to be scared... Ghosts aren't real," Sam told him, stroking the wet freckled face, wiping the tears gently with his thumb. He hated to lie to Dean, but it was better than the poor kid being terrified. He smiled when an idea came to him. "Hey, how about we go trick or treating? Would you like that?"

"W-What?" asked Dean, calming down a bit now.

"You dress up like those kids outside, and knock on peoples doors, and they give you candy."

Dean gasped, little face lighting up. "C-Camby?"

"Yep. If anyone scares you, they'll have me to answer to. Do you wanna go?" Sam looked down at his wet form, and the towel around his waist. "Of course I'll have to get dressed first."

Dean giggled, and wiped his eyes. "Yes pees."

"Alright then." Sam put Dean down, and quickly picked his clothes up. "I'll be back in a sec," he told his brother, turning to walk back into the bathroom.

"Noooooo." Dean jumped forward, and clung to Sam's towel with his tiny hands. "S-Scared."

Sam smiled, and ruffled the soft blond hair. "It's alright. I'll get dressed under the covers, okay? I won't leave you," he promised, sitting on the bed, covering himself up with the quilt.

Dean nodded, standing as close to the bed as he could, holding onto the quilt to watch his brother quickly dry and dress himself.

"Okay then," said a fully dressed Sam, looking around the room for something to dress Dean in. "Er... The only things we have are the sheets. Do you wanna go as a ghost?"

"Um..." said Dean quietly, putting his finger into his mouth, looking frightened once again.

"It's alright. I'll cut three holes so you can see, and breathe properly. I'll be right there with you, so you won't have to be scared."

Dean sniffled, and looked trustingly up at Sam. "Yes," he whispered, nodding.

Sam ripped the sheet off the bed, and grabbed some scissors, which he used to cut the sheet in half so Dean didn't trip over. "Here we go," he said, cutting circles for the eyes and mouth. When he finished, he held it out. "Come here."

"Kay." Dean slowly walked over, and stayed still while Sam covered him in the sheet. "Sammy?" he whimpered when he was cloaked in darkness, and couldn't see anything.

"Sorry," said Sam, adjusting the sheet so he could see the big green eyes peering up at him.

Dean looked up at Sam through the holes his brother had cut for him. "See you," he said, clapping in delight.

"Wow. Look at you. A cute little friendly ghost," said Sam, tweaking the tiny nose through the sheet.

Dean's giggling could be heard underneath.

Sam's heart warmed at the laughter. "And we need something for the candy to go into," he said, walking over to get a carrier bag from one of the drawers, then turned back to Dean.

"Come on Casper, let's get you some candy."

Dean giggled again, and ran over to Sam. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Sam laughed, and took the tiny hand in his, before they stepped out into the street.

***The End***

**Hope you like**


	4. Dean VS Chicken pox

**DEAN VS CHICKEN POX**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Little Dean has chicken pox, so Sam looks after him.  
**

Sam hummed while he turned the pancakes over he was making for breakfast. He had only been watching little Dean for over a week now, but Sam had taken to the big brother role pretty well. He was loving every minute of looking after the little three year old version of his brother.

He smiled as he looked over at his brother, who was sitting in his pajamas with his Buzz lightyear and Woody dolls, watching Monsters INC. Even though Sam never thought of his brother as cute, he had to admit little Dean was the cutest little boy ever, he had blond hair, which stuck up everywhere when he woke up in the morning, huge green eyes that seem to take up his whole face, a tiny nose which scrunched up whenever he smiled, and freckles which were all over.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked when Dean sneezed. The past few days Dean had been sniffly and warm, showing the signs of getting a cold.

"Mikey," Dean answered, pointing at the movie.

Sam shook his head fondly, and continued making the pancakes.

"Dean breakfast is ready," called Sam several minutes later, placing the pancakes on the motel table. "Come get it."

Dean nodded, and slowly walked over to the small kitchen with Woody in his arms. "Fank you," he mumbled, sniffling when Sam picked him up, and placed him into his chair.

"Are you feeling any better, little brother?" asked Sam worriedly, placing his hand to Dean's little forehead to check his temperature. 'Still a little warm.'

Dean didn't answer, he just wiped his nose with his sleeve, picking at the food.

As Sam ate, he kept shooting worried glances at him. If Dean was sick, then Sam was going to look after him.

* * *

"Sammy Sammy. Gotted spotties. What is dey Sammy?" asked Dean, waving his arms around frantically. "SAMMY!"

Sam frowned, running his fingers gently over the spots which covered Dean's chest. "Oh crap."

"What Sammy?" whimpered Dean, looking terrified.

"It's alright kiddo. Don't panic," he soothed. "You've got chicken pox."

Dean gasped, eyes going wide in horror. "Deanie be chicken?"

"No, you're not gonna turn into a chicken."

Dean burst into tears. "I BE CHICKEN!" he wailed through his tears. "I WANT BE DEANIE, NOT CHICKEN!"

"Hey come here," said Sam, lifting his sobbing brother into his arms. "Shh. You're not going to turn into a chicken, baby. I promise you."

"B-But I gots chicken spotties, Sammy," whispered Dean, gripping Sam's shirt tightly in both his tiny fists.

"I know, but you're not turning into a chicken. And even if you did, I'll still love you millions and billions," Sam told him, kissing the little face, which would soon be covered in spots. "We've got to go out."

"Where go?" asked the little boy, bottom lip trembling.

Sam grabbed Dean's blanket, and wrapped his brother in it before answering. "I'm taking you to the doctors to make sure it's definitely chicken pox and not anything else, and then we've got to go and get some things which are gonna help you when you get worse."

Dean gasped, more tears filling his eyes. "I is be chicken," he wailed.

"Hey hey, Dean when I say worse, I don't mean you are gonna turn into a chicken," soothed Sam, wiping the tears which were flowing down his freckled cheeks, before hugging the tiny boy gently. "Shh. I promise."

When Sam managed to calm Dean down, he picked up his wallet and car keys and carried Dean outside. "Come on, spotty."

* * *

By four o'clock, the tiny Winchester was covered in spots, and completely miserable.

"Dean, come here," said Sam, coming in from the little bathroom where he had been filling the bathtub with oatmeal. The doctor told him that it was supposed to help, and right now he was willing to try anything.

Dean whimpered when Sam picked him up. "Ishy," he moaned, laying his little head against Sam's shoulder as he scratched at his arm.

"Shh. I know. But I'm gonna try and make you feel better. Put Woody down," said Sam, taking the doll from his brother.

When they walked into the bathroom, Dean's head shot up when he saw his reflection in the mirror. "SAMMY!" he yelled, bursting into tears when he saw the big red spots covering his face.

"Whoa, hey. What's this about?" asked Sam, surprised.

Dean didn't answer, he hid his face against Sam's neck, crying.

"Shh. Tell me what's wrong, baby."

When Dean calmed down enough to talk, he looked back at his spotty face in the mirror. "S-S-Spotties eated my's feckwes," he told him, pointing at his reflection.

"No they haven't. Your freckles are still there," Sam promised him. "The spots haven't eaten your freckles."

"Nooooo," Dean cried, scratching his face.

"Stop that," said Sam, grabbing the tiny hand gently in his own.

"ISHY!"

"I know, but I'm trying to help you." Sam sat on the toilet seat, and undressed his brother.

Dean whimpered, and started scratching at his chest.

"Dean, stop scratching," Sam told him again, picking him up and carrying him over to the bath. "Here we go."

As Dean was lowered into the bath, he gasped and his eyes went wide. "WHAT DAT?"

Sam laughed, and knelt beside the tub. "It's gonna help you stop itching."

"Wook yucky," pouted Dean, scowling at the bath.

"I know, but this helps," said Sam, dipping the new sponge into the water, and wiping it along Dean's arms.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Sam stood Dean up and gently rinsed the little body, before patting him dry with a towel. "How are you feeling, spotty?" he asked, placing his hand on Dean's forehead.

Dean smiled at his big brother. "I not ishy."

"See?" said Sam, grinning back. "Told you it would work, didn't I?" He grabbed a bottle and cotton balls from the bag, and held them out. "Okay, now let's put some of this on. This is calamine lotion, this is gonna help you too. But I need you to stay still for me, can you do that?"

Dean nodded, and tried to stay still while his brother applied the lotion onto his skin. "Cowd," he exclaimed, shivering.

"I know it's cold, but you need this on." Covering the small body in the calamine lotion was difficult since Dean kept shivering and squirming, but eventually his skin was covered.

Instead of dressing him back into his pajamas, Sam dressed Dean in a pair of boxers, and carried him back to bed. "You're staying in bed today, so anything you want, you just ask me, alright?" said Sam, covering the little boy up. "Your wish is my command."

Dean giggled, and scratched behind his ear. "Ice ceem?"

"Coming right up master," Sam joked, bowing forwards. "Anything else? What do you want most in the whole world?"

"Um... has cuddwe," replied Dean, holding his little arms out.

"Come here you," he said, sitting Dean up and wrapping his arms around him, holding him to his chest. After several minutes Sam pulled away, and laid Dean gently back against the pillows. "I'll be back in a sec with a bowl of ice cream."

When he had a bowlful, Sam carried it over to Dean, and sat on the edge of his bed. "Here we go, master Winchester. Open up," he told him, lifting the spoon up.

"Oooh," squealed Dean, before opening his mouth. "Yummy yummy."

"Is that nice?" asked Sam, getting another spoonful, and feeding his brother.

Dean nodded, and ate more ice cream. "F-Fank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"ISHY ISHY!" yelled Dean, scratching frantically.

"Hey hey, stop scratching," Sam told him, before reaching over to grab Dean's mittens. "You're wearing these."

"Why Sammy?" moaned Dean.

"I don't have any nail clippers, and I don't want you to scar if you scratch the spots too much."

Dean's eyebrows met as he frowned, looking adorably confused. "Spotties scared?"

"No. I said scar not scare," Sam explained, putting the mittens on the tiny hands. "They leave little marks on your body."

"Not wike chicken, dey bited me," mumbled Dean, scowling.

Sam sighed. "Dean, a chicken didn't bite you."

"How's you know?"

"Have you seen any chickens anywhere?"

"I gots chicken spotties. And.. and I be chicken."

Sam slapped a hand over his face. "Dean, for the last time, you're not gonna turn into a chicken. You don't get it by being bit by chickens," he told him, grabbing the glass of water.

After taking a few sips, Dean whimpered and started crying again. "Huuuuurrrrrrt," he cried, pointing at his mouth where he had three blisters inside.

"Shh, come here," said Sam, lifting him onto his knee. He stroked Dean's cheek, and noticed he seemed a lot warmer than before. Luckily he had gotten some acetaminophen earlier to help as advised by the doctor.

Reaching over, Sam got the medication and water, and carefully gave some to his little brother.

Dean scrunched up his tiny fists into Sam's shirt, crying his eyes out against his brothers warm chest. Sam felt like crying himself. Sure, chicken pox wasn't serious or anything, but it broke Sam's heart that Dean was in pain and miserable, and he couldn't do anything to help him.

Sam stood up, and started rocking Dean gently from side to side, his big hand cupped the back of Dean's head which was laying on his shoulder, fingers stroking through the soft blond hair as he tried to comfort him. "Hush little Deanie, don't you cry, Sammy's gonna sing you a lullaby. If that lullaby is wrong, Sammy's gonna sing you a Zeppelin song..."

As Sam sang, Dean's eyes fluttered closed, and his cries lessened as he relaxed and fell asleep in his big brothers arms.

* * *

Later when Dean was awake, Sam walked over to sit on Dean's bed. "How are you feeling, baby?" he asked, fingers stroking through the floppy fringe.

"Spotty," Dean mumbled miserably. He pouted up at Sam, the look on his face melting Sam's heart.

"I'll tell you what, why don't I get some more ice cream, get into my pajamas, so me and you can curl up in bed and watch finding Nemo?"

Dean gasped, face lighting up into a big grin. "Nemo? Yes pees Sammy. Woves Nemo."

"Then after that, we'll watch Toy story, Shrek, the Lion king and the Incredibles," said Sam, naming almost all of Dean's new DVD collection.

"Yay," said Dean, clapping.

"Alrighty then. I'll be right back."

As Dean watched Sam getting everything ready, he scratched at his stomach and neck with his mittened hands.

"Dean, stop that," called Sam over his shoulder. "I told you I've got eyes in the back of my head."

"Funny Sammy," said Dean, giggling.

"I know I am," laughed Sam, walking over with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. Dean's mouth had been too sore to eat anything else all day, but luckily Sam had plenty in the little fridge. "Close your eyes, I'm getting dressed."

Dean covered his eyes, and listened as Sam quickly changed into his pajamas, then placed Dean's new DVD into the player. "Here we go."

As soon as Sam climbed into the bed, Dean immediately snuggled close against his side. Sam smiled and curled around him as the two shared the ice cream.

"Nemo Nemo Nemo," sang Dean when the movie started. "Nemo fishy."

Sam smiled down at the little boy, and laid a kiss to the soft blond hair, which was the only thing not covered in spots. "I love you, Spotty," he whispered.

Dean giggled again through a mouthful of ice cream. "Woves you, Sammy."

*******The End***

******Hope you like**


	5. Dean's new pet

**DEAN'S NEW PET  
**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Little Dean gets a pet.  
**

Sam opened his eyes to see the sun shining in through the window. He looked over at Dean's bed, but didn't see the little boy. Shooting up in bed, he saw his brother drawing a huge picture on the motel room wall with his crayons.

"DEAN!" yelled Sam, getting out of bed.

Dean jumped in shock and span around. A smile lit up his face when he saw his big brother awake. "Hiya Sammy."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Do picture, Sammy," replied Dean.

Sam knelt in-front of the three year old, turning him to face him by grabbing the little shoulders. "You don't draw on walls, Dean. It's naughty. Do you understand? It's bad, you don't do it."

The big smile dropped from Dean's face, replaced with a heartbroken expression as his lips trembled, and his eyes filled up with tears. He sniffled, and lowered his head, the tears dripping down his face and onto his hands.

Sam felt like hitting himself. "Hey, I'm sorry kiddo. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I do for you, Sammy," Dean sobbed, his little hands covered his face as he cried. "Woves you."

"Shh. I'm sorry for making you cry. Come on, baby. Shh. I'm sorry, it's alright." Sam wrapped his arms around him, and held him tightly to his chest, comforting him. "Please don't cry, I don't like it when you cry," he whispered, tears filling his own eyes.

Dean's tiny fists clenched into Sam's shirt, his tear-streaked face hid in his big brother's chest. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the heartbroken sobs of the upset three year old.

"Come on," said Sam, running his hand up and down Dean's trembling back. "I'll tell you what, I'll give the motel manager some money to pay for the damage, okay?"

Dean sniffled, and wiped his nose on Sam's shirt. "W-Why nasty to me?"

"I didn't mean it, baby. I love you too, I didn't mean to be nasty. Why don't you tell me what you drew for me, huh?" asked Sam, pulling away slightly to wipe the remaining tears. "This is the best picture I have ever seen in my life."

Dean started giggling. "Fank you."

Sam smiled, and turned Dean around so he faced the wall. Wrapping his arms around his brother, Sam rested his chin on the little shoulder. "So what did you draw for me then?"

"Um..." Dean pointed at the picture, which was scribbled in loads of different colours and shapes. "Dis up sky, wight?"

Sam nodded, his smile widening. "Right. What's this?" he asked, pointing at the bright yellow shape.

"Birdy, big birdy. Erm... Dat Pawa," said Dean, this time pointing at a black circle just below the 'bird'.

"Wow. That's the best Impala drawing ever."

"Yay," cheered Dean, clapping. "Birdy dwived Pawa."

"Okay then. How did a bird drive a car?"

"It magic." Next, Dean pointed at a big green circle. "Dis cwocadie."

"A flying crocodile?" asked an amused Sam. 'This kid has a weird imagination, a driving bird, now a flying crocodile?'

"Yeah," answered Dean, giggling again.

"Okay then. Where are me and you?"

"Um... You's dere," Dean told him, pointing at a shape which looked like a huge blue starfish with red hair.

"Oh wow. It looks just like me. Where are you?"

"I forgots."

"I guess I'll have to draw you then," said Sam, reaching over for a crayon to draw a small boy beside the picture of him. "Here we go. Head... body... arms... legs." After he finished the stick figure, Sam found more crayons and coloured it in.

Dean gasped when he saw Sam give the small figure yellow hair and green eyes. "Dat me?"

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"Pwetty."

Sam smiled again, and wrote something under the picture.

"What say, Sammy?" asked Dean, pointing at the writing.

"It says... Sammy and Deanie, brothers forever," Sam told him, reaching over for his phone to take a picture of the coloured wall. "There, now I'll be able to look at this great picture any time I want."

"Yay."

Sam kissed the little boys hair, and held him a little tighter. "As a sorry for making you cry, why don't we go to the mall, so we can get you some colouring books, and more crayons, huh? Would you like that?"

"Yes pees, Sammy."

"Alright then. And if you're very good, I'll buy you a treat... you can go in any store you want, and get one thing... anything."

"Fank you."

"You're welcome. Now come on, little man," said Sam, standing up with his brother in his arms, so they could get ready to go out.

* * *

When the brothers walked back into the motel room two hours later, Dean was giggling happily.

Sam sighed, dropping the bags onto the floor. "I can't believe we've got a pet," he said, carefully getting the bowl out of the pet shop bag, and filling it with water.

While they were out, Sam got enough shopping to last them the week, and as promised Dean got five colouring books, a pad of paper to draw pictures, two new packs of crayons, and a new pair of pajamas. The one thing Dean wanted more than anything was something from the pet shop, so that was why Sam also came back with a goldfish.

"Hey little guy," said Sam, getting out the clear bag, which was filled with water, the little fish swimming inside.

Dean squealed when Sam opened the bag, and dropped the fish into the fishbowl. He giggled and clapped in excitement as he watched his new pet swimming. "Oooooh."

Sam laughed, shaking his head fondly. Only Dean could get so excited about a fish. "What are you gonna call him, little man?"

"Nemo," answered Dean straight away, standing on his tiptoes, hands gripping the edge of the table, so he could see the fish.

"Nemo? Okay then, do you wanna feed Nemo? I bet he's hungry."

"Awight," said Dean, walking over to the shopping bags, where he picked up the bananas. "Gives dis."

"Er... Dean? Fish don't eat bananas."

"Sammish den?" asked Dean, looking for the bread.

"Fish don't eat sandwiches either."

"Um... what den?" asked Dean, dumping the fruit onto the floor, and running back over to his brother.

"This," said Sam, taking out the tub of fish food. After taking out a tiny amount, Sam lifted Dean up, and held him in the crook of one arm. "There we go. Hold your hand out."

When Dean held out his tiny hands, Sam carefully placed the food inside his palm. "Fish eat fish food, not people food. Drop it in the bowl."

Dean bit his lip, and threw the food into the bowl. He gasped, his face lighting up as he watched Nemo shoot over to the food. "Sammy Sammy, he eats it, he eats it."

Sam laughed, and tweaked his nose. "Yeah, he is. I guess he's hungry then. Are you hungry?" he asked, lowering him back down.

"No Sammy," Dean answered, back on his tiptoes, watching his new friend.

"Are you sure? I'll make you a sandwich if you want one."

Dean shook his head. "Sammy, I hug Nemo?"

"Fish don't need hugs."

Dean's eyes went round and sad. "Woves hugs."

"I know you do, but fish don't. If you ever need a hug, you've got me," Sam told him, ruffling his hair. "I'll give you a biiiiiig hug whenever you want one. But you don't hug the fish."

"Gives kiss den?" asked Dean innocently.

Sam slapped a hand over his face. "Dean, the fish doesn't want a hug or a kiss."

"Awight." Dean was silent for a minute, then grinned at the fishbowl.

"What are you doing?"

"Gived Nemo smiwe. Make happy."

Sam laughed again. "Come here you," he said, holding his arms out again.

Dean giggled, and held out his arms to be picked up for a hug with his big brother. "YAY HUG!"

Sam closed his eyes, and hugged the little boy tightly. "Love you."

"WOVES SAMMY AND NEMO!" yelled Dean, throwing his arms around Sam's neck.

* * *

"I woves you, you woves me, I woves you, you woves me," sang Dean, sitting at the kitchen table on his special chair, drawing a picture.

Sam sat on the bed, watching his little brother singing to himself. "Have you been watching Barney again?"

"Yeah. He dinysore. I woves you, you woves me, I woves you..." Five minutes later, Dean put down his crayons, and waved Sam over. "Sammy Sammy, come see."

"What?" asked Sam, getting up to join him at the kitchen table. "Wow. Look at that."

Dean giggled shyly, and looked up at Sam with big hopeful eyes. "Wike it? It Nemo... and... and Deanie."

"Oh yeah," said Sam, looking at the little starfish shape scribbled in green, with yellow hair, and the huge orange circle beside it. "Why is the fish bigger than you?"

Dean shrugged, and smiled. "See Nemo?" he asked, holding up the picture, so his fish could see it. He put the picture down, and got a new piece of paper. "You now."

"What are you gonna draw for me then?"

"Spesal," said Dean, picking up a purple crayon. His little tongue peeked out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the picture.

Sam propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm as he watched Dean drawing. He could watch this little version of Dean all day, he was always happy, smiling, and laughing; something big Dean didn't do much.

"Hiya Nemo," Dean waved when the fish swam closer to him. He leaned forward, and kissed the bowl. "Dere go."

Sam reached over, and ruffled the blond hair with his free hand. He had never seen anyone get so attached to a goldfish, but this was probably the only pet Dean ever had.

Dean grinned up at Sam, and continued with his picture. "I woves you, you woves me, I woves you..."

Several minutes later, Dean put the finishing touches to his picture, then held it up for Sam. "Wook Sammy."

"Wow," said Sam, taking the piece of paper. "Is this me?" he asked, pointing at the smiling figure, scribbled in blue and yellow. He frowned when he saw the weird shaped brown thing on his head. "What on earth is that?"

"Um... Sammy Woody... Toy stowy."

"A cowboy hat? I'm a cowboy?" asked Sam, his heart warming in his chest.

"Yeah," said Dean, clapping. "Horsie dere."

Sam smiled at the purple scribble beside him. "That's my horse?"

Dean nodded with a big grin. "He Hoppy."

"Okay... So I'm a cowboy... with a horse called Hoppy?"

"Yeah. Nice Sammy?"

"It's amazing, little man," said Sam, putting the picture down, to hug his little brother. "Thank you." When he pulled away, he grinned down at Dean. "You're my favourite deputy."

Dean frowned in confusion for a minute, then his face lit up when he understood what Sam meant. "Woody say dat."

"I know. Do you wanna watch him?"

"YAAAAAY!" cheered Dean in excitement. "WOODY AND BUZZY!"

"Okay then." Sam laughed, and lifted Dean from his chair, then went to get Dean's DVD.

"Come," said Dean, reaching up to move the fishbowl.

"Dean, what are you doing now?"

"Nemo see Toy stowy," Dean told him, pointing at the fish.

"Leave him where he is, the fish doesn't wanna watch TV."

"But... But... Nemo woves Buzzy."

"Get over here, and leave the fish alone," Sam told him, pressing 'play', before sitting on Dean's bed.

Dean pouted, but ran over to join Sam on the bed to watch his favourite movie.

* * *

"Has miwk pees?" Dean asked his big brother after Toy story was over.

"Yeah sure," said Sam, getting up to get him a drink.

Dean ran over, and watched Sam pour the milk into his favourite cup. "Fank you," he said politely, taking his drink from Sam.

"You're welcome," said Sam, putting the milk away. "I'll be back in a sec, I need a wee."

"Nemo go wee-wee?"

"No, the fish doesn't need a wee," Sam told him, smiling.

"He do. Go toiet... has wee-wee."

"Dean, I'm not putting the fish down the toilet, so he can have a wee... he can wee in his bowl. I'll be back in a minute."

"Awight." When he took another sip of his milk, Dean climbed onto a chair, and poured some into the bowl. "Dere go, Nemo."

When Sam came back out of the small bathroom, it was to see Dean on the chair, pouring more milk in the bowl. "Dean what the hell are you doing?" he asked, rushing over.

Dean jumped in shock, and looked up at Sam with a frightened expression. "Gived Nemo dwink."

"Why? Fish don't drink milk, they live in water. If he wants a drink, he's surrounded by it. That could kill him... Oh crap." Sam ran back into the bathroom, and filled up the sink, making sure the water wasn't too cold. A minute later, he rushed back in and carefully took out the fish with the small net he bought from the pet shop.

Running back into the little bathroom, Sam dropped the fish into the clear water. "Thank god," he sighed in relief when he saw Nemo still swimming.

"NEMO?" yelled Dean, running up behind Sam.

"Nemo's fine. I need to keep him in there while I clean his bowl out. You're coming with me, so you don't decide to give him something else... like a kiss or something, you'll end up swallowing him," Sam told him, taking his little hand to lead him back into their room. 'Or take him on a fun ride by flushing him down the toilet.'

While Sam cleaned out the bowl, and filled it back up with clean fresh water, Dean stood watching silently with his thumb in his mouth, the big puppy dog eyes out in full force.

"Dean, you're not in trouble, so stop looking at me like that," Sam told him, bringing the fish back into the room. Setting Nemo back on the kitchen table, he knelt before his brother. "You don't give the fish milk or bananas. If he's thirsty, he'll drink the water... and if he's hungry, I'll give you a tiny bit of fish food, so you can feed him with that, okay?"

Dean looked down sadly, and nodded. "Nemo sad?"

"No, he's not sad."

Dean didn't believe him; he stood on his tiptoes, and grinned at the bowl again.

Sam rolled his eyes, and walked back to the kitchen to start dinner. "What do you want for... Dean, what the hell are you doing now?" he asked his brother, who was waving his little arms, and wiggling his hips.

"Dance Sammy," Dean told him, bouncing up and down.

"Okay... why?" asked Sam, confused as to why his brother was suddenly dancing in the middle of the motel room.

"Nemo sad... make happy," answered Dean, shaking his little bum, and shoulders.

Sam shook his head with a smile on his face. "So you're dancing to make your fish happy... because he's sad?"

Dean nodded, giggling. "Yeah."

"I think he's happy now, you little freaky weirdo. Come and choose what you want for dinner, and stop dancing to the fish."

* * *

After dinner, Sam got Dean dressed into his new Woody costume pajamas. Sam had to take a photo of Dean in them, he looked completely adorable dressed like his favourite character.

"Here Dean," said Sam, walking over to Dean, who was sitting on his big brother's bed, watching a cartoon.

Dean held out his tiny hands together, and squealed in delight when Sam dropped ten M&M's into them. "Fank you."

"You're welcome," said Sam with a wink. Since it was close to Dean's bedtime, Sam didn't want him to have too many, otherwise he wouldn't sleep.

Dean crunched happily on the candy as he watched Scooby doo. "DAFFEE DAFFEE! SAMMY SAMMY! DAFFEE!" he yelled suddenly, bouncing on the bed, pointing at the TV.

Sam laughed when he saw Daphne on the screen. "You like her, huh?"

"She pwetty."

"Deanie's got a girlfriend," teased Sam, grinning when Dean's cheeks turned bright red.

Dean lowered his head, and ate an M&M which was almost as red as his face.

"When this is finished, it's bedtime, okay?"

"But... but Daffee," Dean protested, pointing at the TV.

"I said when it's finished, not right now."

"Awight den," agreed Dean, holding his last M&M tightly in his hand, he was saving it.

When the cartoon finished, Sam turned the TV off. "Come on."

Dean climbed from Sam's bed, and ran over to the kitchen table. "Here Nemo," he said, climbing onto a chair, and dropping the M&M into the bowl.

"Dean, the fish doesn't eat M&M's."

"Why? Dey yummy," Dean told him, crossing his arms, and glaring at his brother.

"Fine. He'll save it for later," said Sam, planning to take the M&M out of the bowl after he got Dean to sleep. "Come on little cowboy, get in bed."

"Nighty night Nemo. Woves you," said Dean, before kissing the bowl again. "He bed?"

"The fish doesn't sleep in the bed, you've got your teddy to sleep with, so get over here."

"Kay," whispered Dean, walking slowly over to his bed.

When Dean laid down with his Woody doll in his arms, Sam covered him up, and laid next to him. He didn't like to fall asleep on his own, so Sam had to stay with him until he fell asleep.

"Goodnight little brother," whispered Sam with a smile. "Love you."

"Nighty night. Woves you." Snuggling up next to Sam, the tiny Winchester looked up at Sam sleepily. "What dey howes?" he asked, pointing at Sam's face.

"They're called dimples. I haven't got holes in my face."

Dean stuck his finger in Sam's dimple, which made his smile widen. "What are you doing?"

"Dey hurts you?" asked Dean worriedly, prodding at Sam's face.

Sam took the tiny hand and kissed the fingers gently. "Nope. They come and play out when I smile, so everyone can see how happy I am."

"I gots dippers?"

"No. I've got dimples, you've got freckles on yours," Sam told him, running his fingers over the cheeks and tiny nose.

"Sammy happy," said Dean with a grin, sticking his finger back in Sam's dimple.

"I'm very very happy."

Dean giggled again, and rose up on his elbow to kiss the dimple. "Dere go," he whispered, then yawned. "I seepy. Sing?"

"Do you want your bedtime song?" asked Sam, sitting up a little to cradle Dean in his arms.

"Yes pees."

Sam started to rock slowly from side to side. "Rock my little Deanie, tight in my arms. When it gets cold, Sammy keeps you warm. When you get sleepy, close those green eyes. Sleep my little Deanie, goodnight bye byes." He smiled when he saw Dean's eyes flutter closed, and he relaxed in his arms.

"Sweet dreams little man," he whispered, kissing the little forehead, before laying him back down in his bed, adjusting the covers so he stayed warm.

***The End***

**Hope you like  
**


	6. The cutest Halloween angel

**THE CUTEST HALLOWEEN ANGEL**

**Disclaimer: Not mine but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Sam takes little Dean trick or treating, but Dean gets scared when nasty teens steal his candy.**

"Here we are," said Sam, picking Dean up to carry him to the store entrance. He came to a stop in-front of the baskets, but chose a trolley instead to sit Dean in so he didn't run off. "Are you gonna go for a ride?"

"Yes pees," said the little blond boy, before Sam sat him in the children's seat on the trolley, and strapped him in. It took a few minutes, since Dean made a game out of it until Sam told him to sit still.

When Sam began pushing the trolley, he made Dean giggle in delight when he ran, pushing him.

"AGAIN AGAIN!" yelled the tiny Winchester, clapping in excitement.

"Okay, one more time." He made sure nobody was coming towards him, before he ran again, making Dean scream with laughter. Sam laughed with him, but stopped when he saw the selection of children's clothes, and walked over.

Taking two items, Sam lifted them to show Dean. "What do you think of this?"

Dean looked over, and saw the white t-shirt and matching trousers. "Angel?"

"Yeah. Angels wear white, don't they?" said Sam, placing the items in the trolley. It was Halloween tonight, and Dean wanted to go, so Sam had to stop what he was doing to take his now three year old brother to get a costume. It was Sam's idea for him to go as an angel, since Dean was too cute to be anything scary.

Dean giggled, and nodded. He gasped when he saw a set of toy cars. "SAMMY SAMMY SAMMY SAMMY!"

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"BWUM BWUM! BWUM BWUUUUUM!" yelled the tiny Winchester excitedly.

Sam looked around until he saw what Dean was making a fuss about. "You want some cars?"

"Yes pees," answered Dean with a big grin.

"Not today, little man."

At the answer, Dean's lips started trembling, and his eyes filled with tears. "Sad. Has hug?" he asked, holding his little arms out.

Sam lifted Dean out of the seat, and into his arms to give him a hug.

The little arms and legs wrapped themselves around Sam. The eyes went big and round, and he laid his head on his big brother's shoulder. "Pees pees pees Sammy, pees has bwum bwum peeeeees?"

Sam smiled, and shook his head. "I don't..." he trailed off when Dean stuck out his bottom lip. "Oh alright. Put those things away."

Dean giggled, and kissed Sam's cheek. "Woves you."

"I love you too," replied Sam, kissing his tiny freckled nose, before adding the cars to the trolley. He tried to put Dean back in his seat, but the little arms tightened their hold.

"Noooo. Want Sammy," moaned the little boy, hiding his face against Sam's neck.

"Okay then." Holding Dean with his left arm, Sam had to steer the trolley with his right hand, making sure not to crash into anything as they made their way to the Halloween costume section.

"Whoa," breathed Sam when he saw the huge selection of costumes, which ranged from Skeletons and Frankenstein to Dracula and the Devil. It was at the end when he finally found the halos and wings.

Dean lifted his head up to see why Sam had stopped. "What do?"

"I'm getting you a halo," answered Sam, placing a headband with a white halo sticking out of it. "And some wings." Luckily there were two different kinds of wings, fluffy pink for the girls, and fluffy white and baby blue. Grabbing a set of white and blue ones, Sam added them to the pile. "There we go."

Sam thought for a minute if they needed anything else for Dean. He already had a pair of white Nike trainers, now he had white clothes, halo and wings. "Ah ha," he whispered when he had an idea about keeping Dean warm while they were out.

"Alrighty then, hold on tight. The Winchester express is due for takeoff," said Sam, before he started running again.

"YAAAAAAY!" cheered Dean, arms wrapped tightly around Sam as he ran. "Funny."

Sam grinned, and ran to the toy section where he found the kids doctor sets and coats. Some of the sets came with white coats, but the coats also came on their own in different ages and sizes.

"Three three three," Sam muttered to himself as he went through the doctor coats for three year olds.

"Angel Sammy angel."

"I know. But I had an idea. I'm gonna use a knife, and put some slits into the back of the coat so the wings can go through, and it'll look like you have real wings. It'll also keep you warm so you don't get cold out there. YES!" he exclaimed, picking out a small coat, suitable for a three year old.

"YAY SAMMY!" yelled Dean, making some of the people in the aisle turn to smile at him.

"You ready to go now? I think I've got everything to make you into a little Halloween angel."

"Um... Teddy bear," whispered Dean, smiling shyly.

"You want a teddy?"

"Yes pees. Wight wight biiiiiiiig one."

"Come on then. I'll get you the biggest teddy they've got," said Sam, heading in the direction of the stuffed toys, where he found a teddy which was almost as big as Dean.

* * *

That evening after dinner, Sam took the doctors coat into the little kitchen, and used a knife to cut two slits on the back, one on each side for the wings to fit through.

"Come here, little man," Sam called to his brother, who was in the bathroom, already dressed in the t-shirt, trousers, and little trainers, running one of his cars on the floor around the toilet.

The toilet suddenly flushed, making Sam frown and get up. "Dean? What did you flush down the toilet?"

"Pink bwum bwum," answered Dean, putting his finger in his mouth, giving Sam his cutest look.

"You don't flush things down the toilet, you could break it. Why did you flush the car down the toilet?"

"Mr Oogy go dwive."

Sam blinked in surprise. "Er... Who's Mr Oogy?"

"Monster," answered Dean. "But... but he nice... wike Mikey and Suwwy."

"Riiiiiight. So, we've got a nice monster, who lives down the toilet called Mr Oogy, and he wants to drive a car?" asked Sam in amusement.

Dean giggled, and nodded.

Sam laughed with him, and tweaked his little nose. "You're insane, you know that?" he asked fondly.

"Noooo. I Deanie."

Sam shook his head, and stood, taking Dean's hand in his to lead him back to the main room. He had to remember to remove the car later, so it didn't damage the toilet. "You didn't flush the others, did you?" he asked, checking the bed, sighing when he saw the other five cars.

"No. Mr Oogy wike pink."

While Sam went to pick up the last items which would make him into an angel, Dean climbed onto his bed, and shared a quick hug with his new teddy, which he had called Mr Hiby jiby.

"Come here, you."

Dean kissed his teddy, and laid him down, before running to his big brother. "Hiya."

"Hiya," Sam replied, kneeling in-front of him, holding the wings and halo. "Stay still for a minute."

Instead of standing still, Dean started fidgeting and bouncing while his brother tried to get his arms into the armholes.

"Dean, stop it." When Dean finally stood still, he was able to get Dean's arms into the holes, so the wings laid across his back, and place the halo carefully on his little head. The blond hair was thick and long enough to hide the headband, so the fluffy halo seemed to rest above Dean's head.

Lastly, Sam grabbed the adjusted doctors coat and dressed him in that, careful to arrange the wings so they went through the slits, and spread out on his back. Even though Dean had another layer of clothing on underneath the white clothes, Sam wasn't taking any risks of him getting sick.

"Oh wow. Look at you," whispered Sam, putting his hand on his chest, feeling like a proud parent.

Dressed all in white, Dean made the perfect little angel. He had the biggest green eyes, the cutest smile, and blond hair which framed his angelic little freckled face, he was beyond adorable.

"I pwetty?" asked Dean, giggling.

"You're the cutest little angel in the world," said Sam honestly.

Dean squealed in excitement, and clapped his tiny hands.

"Are you gonna stay still while I take a picture?"

"Mr Hiby jiby?" said Dean, pointing at his bear.

"You want a picture with your teddy?" When Dean nodded, Sam went to Dean's bed, and picked up the bear. After standing Mr Hiby jiby up, resting him against the bed, Sam knelt in-front of Dean, with his camera.

"Fank you." Dean threw his left arm around his big teddy, and grinned at his brother.

After the picture, Sam smiled and looked down at the image. Dean looked so cute dressed as a little angel, standing beside his huge teddy. "Aww."

Dean giggled again, and kissed his brother. "Twicky tweats."

Sam grinned back, and tweaked his nose. "How much candy are you gonna get?"

"Miwwiums. Mr Hiby jiby go twicky tweats?"

"No. The teddy doesn't want to go trick or treating." Sam picked the teddy up, and put him back in bed. "He wants to stay in bed, because he's tired."

"But he be sad. Pees he come?"

"Dean, he's nearly the same size as you. How can you carry him around with you? He's better off staying in bed where it's nice and warm."

Dean ran over to his bed, and climbed up. "Nighty night, Mr Hiby jiby. Woves you," he said, giving him a kiss. He put his blue car into his pocket, and ran back over to Sam. It was the car which Sam had played with earlier when they played racing, and it was his favourite. "Go pees, Sammy?"

"Just one thing. I have two rules for when we're out. Number one, you don't go anywhere, you stay with me at all times. Number two, you don't eat any of the candy until I've checked it first."

"But why, Sammy?" moaned Dean, tugging on the white sleeves of the coat, which reached just below his knees, almost like a little trench coat.

"Because... because... Some people are nasty, okay? Let's leave it at that. So what are the rules?"

"Erm... Stay wiv you... and not eats candy."

"Okay then. I just have to get you a bag to use," said Sam, before walking to the small motel kitchen to get a carrier bag. "Let's go, my little angel."

Dean was grinning as he ran over to Sam, the white coat flying behind him.

* * *

At the first house they came to, Sam made sure Dean was in-front of him before he knocked on the door.

When the young woman answered, Dean smiled up at her and said, "Twicky tweats."

"Awwww. What a beautiful baby angel. Here you go, honey," she said, dropping a handful of candy into the bag Dean was holding in-front of him.

"Fank you," said Dean, giving her his cutest smile, before showing her his wings. "Wook. Wings fwy." He turned back around, and started jumping. "See? Fwy."

"Your son is adorable."

"He... He's my..." stammered Sam. He looked down at his brother, and saw him looking up at him with his huge eyes and cute little face. "He's my boy. Thanks. Say bye, little man."

"Bye bye," said a grinning Dean, waving up at the nice lady.

"Bye bye angel."

Dean was still smiling when they got to the next house. Sam adjusted the crooked halo, before he knocked on the door.

This time a middle-aged man opened the door to see the little blond angel dressed in white.

"Hiya. Twicky tweats," said Dean nervously looking up at the big man with a beard and hair which went to his shoulders. His free hand grabbed Sam's bigger one, and he stood closer to his big brother. 'He scawy big bear.'

"There you go, little guy," said the man, placing the bag of gummy bears into Dean's bag.

"Um... Fank you nice mister," said Dean shyly, scrunching his shoulders up, looking all Mr adorable in the process. "I gots big teddy bear... he big haiwy."

"Like me then," joked the man with a grin.

Dean giggled. "You's funny."

Sam's heart warmed in his chest as he looked down at his little brother. "Are you ready to get some more candy, little man?"

"Yes pees. Bye bye, Mr bear."

"Bye kid," waved the man, before closing his door.

As the two Winchesters walked to the next few houses, Dean began skipping in excitement. He loved being dressed like an angel and getting loads of candy from the nice misters and ladies.

At one of the gardens, Dean had to stand with a little red devil, which made Sam laugh.

"Hiya," the little boy said to Dean. "I'm the devil."

"Hiya, I angel," replied Dean, smiling at the other boy. "I gots wings."

"I've got horns," said the little devil, pointing at his head. "Grrrrrrr."

Dean giggled, and the two waited for someone to open the door.

"Oooh. An angel and a devil," said the older man who opened the door.

"I angel Deanie. I fee," the little boy told him, holding his bag out. "Twicky tweats." He gasped when a big handful of candy was placed into the bag. "Fank you."

The man gave the other boy the same amount of candy, and smiled at the two. "Have a happy halloween, guys."

"Um... happy haween," said Dean, smiling sweetly, his little nose scrunched up.

Sam smiled down at Dean, and took his little hand to lead him out of the garden, and to the next house.

* * *

An hour later, the brothers were going to another house. They were busy laughing and talking, they didn't notice when a huge group of teenagers were coming towards them, until they swarmed them.

"Crap," whispered Sam, coming to a stop while they passed, his hand gripping Deans.

Dean watched with huge frightened eyes as the loud group walked really close to him and Sam. Suddenly his hand was ripped free from his brothers, and he was pushed along with the group.

When the huge group of drunken teens passed, Sam realised his hand was no longer holding Deans. "DEAN!"

Dean was whimpering and panicking when some of the group separated to go to a party, and the remaining group of six teenagers between the ages of sixteen and eighteen surrounded him.

"Hey look, a little fairy," laughed one of the teens pointing at the tiny Winchester, who was gripping his half-full bag of candy in both hands, holding it tightly to his chest.

"G-Get aw-away," said the trembling little angel, trying to sound brave. He looked around, trying to find his Sammy, but there was nobody around.

"Can we have some of your candy?" asked the chubby one.

"N-N-No. My's ca-candy."

"I wasn't asking," said the teen, reaching over to take the candy.

Dean screamed, and fought against him. "NOOOOO!" he yelled, waving his free arm wildly "GET A-AWAY!"

When the hand came closer to him, Dean bit his fingers as hard as he could.

"Give me the- OW!" The chubby teen withdrew his hand, and held it to his chest. "The little fairy bit me."

Dean scowled and stuck out his tongue, trying to be brave, but he was very scared.

As Dean was distracted, the tallest of the group smiled, and grabbed the bag. "Thanks fairy-boy."

"Not so hard now," said the chubby one, knocking the little boy over.

The group laughed and set off running, not feeling guilty when they heard the cries of the tiny Winchester behind them.

"S-Sammy... S-Sa-Sammy."

* * *

Sam ran in the direction the group was heading, and quickly found his brother sitting on the ground, sobbing as he held his car to his chest. "DEAN!"

"SAMMY!" cried Dean, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.

"Hey, what happened?" asked Sam, sitting in-front of him. He sat Dean on his knee and checked him over. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

Dean sniffled, and shook his head. "I sad," he whispered, lowering his head, even his wings and halo seemed to droop slightly

Sam frowned, looking around. "Where's your candy?"

"Dey gots it," Dean mumbled, wiping his tears.

"Who did? Who took your candy?" asked Sam, taking the little hands gently.

"Big... big meanies taked it."

"Okay then," said Sam, standing up with Dean in the crook of one arm. "You tell me who took it."

"Aw-Awight," agreed Dean wrapping his little arms and legs around his big brother, his head resting against Sam's shoulder.

Sam looked down at his upset brother, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "It's alright. I'll get it back for you."

"Dey nasty meanies, Sammy. Dey scawy."

"They haven't met me yet, they'll be the ones scared when I've finished with them. Nobody steals from you and gets away with it."

Dean sniffled, and wiped his teary eyes. He lifted his head, his eyes going wide when he saw the familiar teenagers. "Dey taked it, Sammy," he told Sam, pointing at them with a shaking finger.

"Right." Sam lowered Dean to the floor, but took hold of his hand. "Come on," he said, almost charging over to the group.

Dean had to run to keep up with his brother since he was walking so fast. He looked up at Sam, and gasped when he saw the angry look on his face.

"HEY!" yelled Sam, nearing the group. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Eating candy," answered one of them, making the others laugh.

"You think it's funny, do you?" asked Sam, not the slightest bit amused.

"Yep. You know, it is easy to take candy from a baby," said the oldest of the group, who looked 18. He smiled at Dean, who hid behind his brother. "Thanks for the candy, kid."

Sam let go of Dean's hand, and grabbed the teens shirt, pulling him up close so their noses were touching. "You won't be laughing in a minute when I rip your head from your shoulders. You mess with my little brother, you mess with me."

The teens took one look at Sam's furious face, and immediately stopped laughing. "I-It was just a joke."

"Does my brother look like he's laughing?" asked Sam, gesturing behind him to Dean, who was clinging onto Sam's trousers, sucking on the thumb of his free hand as he watched with huge watery eyes.

"H-Here. You can have it back," said the teen struggling in Sam's grip. "If the cry baby wants it so bad."

Sam gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed as he removed his right hand, clenching it into a fist. He heard Dean sniffling behind him, and threw the teen to the floor. "You're not worth it... my brother's scared enough."

"Thanks," said the teen, smirking cockily as he stood up and straightened his clothes. He wasn't afraid of Sam anymore, thinking he wouldn't hurt him because his little brother was scared.

"What the hell are you smiling at?"

"Your brother looks stupid anyway. You should've put him in a diaper and gave him a bottle. What the hell is he supposed to be, a fairy?" he asked, laughing as he brought out a handful of the stolen candy from his pocket, and ate it.

That did it for Sam. "You'll be seeing fairies in a minute," he said, swinging his fist and punching him straight in the face.

The teen didn't see it coming, and was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"Not so funny now, is it?" he asked the unconscious boy.

"Wow," whispered Dean in awe, looking up at his big brother with hero worship. 'Sammy soopyhewo.'

"Anybody else wanna make fun of my brother?"

The group dropped the bag of candy and backed away from Sam, identical expressions of fear written on all their faces. "Here dude. We're sorry."

"You will be sorry if you even look at my brother again, you hear me?"

Dean's head peeked out, and he pointed at the chubby one who already had chocolate on his cheeks. "He push me."

Sam smiled over at the teen, but it wasn't a very nice smile. "Did you push my little brother?"

"He bit me," said the teen, holding his sore fingers.

"HE'S 3 YEARS OLD!" thundered Sam angrily. "HOW OLD ARE YOU? 18?"

"I'm 17 and a half."

"Old enough," he said, nodding. His arm shot out, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, bringing him closer. Without warning, Sam kneed him in the crotch, and when the teen doubled over, he brought his knee up, hitting him in the mouth.

A second teen collapsed to the floor, this one bleeding from the mouth. Sam didn't feel the slightest bit guilty, there were only a few years difference between him and the teens, but there was 13-15 years between the six teens and the tiny defenseless three year old.

Sam looked at the rest of the group, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Anybody else do anything to you, little man?"

"No Sammy," Dean mumbled, one fist clenching onto his brothers trousers, while the other held onto his blue car. He seemed to take comfort holding onto it.

Sam nodded. "If you wanna leave conscious, you had better get out of here." The teens continued staring at Sam in fear. "NOW! before I change my mind."

"Yes sir," said the group before they took off running, leaving the fallen teens behind.

Dean came out of hiding, and walked over to the two heaps slowly. "Big meanie," he whispered, kicking the chubby teenager in the head.

Sam laughed, and picked up the bag. His hate and anger immediately faded and was replaced by love and affection. "Here you go, baby," he said, kneeling before his brother.

"Fank you." Dean peered into the bag, gasping when he saw half of his candy was gone. "Dey eated woads," he cried.

"Those little..." Sam took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I'll tell you what... why don't we go get you some more, huh? Would you like that, my brave little angel?" he asked, straightening the wings and halo.

Dean giggled, and nodded. "Yes pees, Sammy."

"Alrighty then," said Sam grabbing the bag, then lifting Dean into his arms carefully, so he didn't bend the wings. The brothers walked away without another glance behind them.

As they walked, Sam glared at anyone who came close to his brother, silently warning them not to get too close to him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah Sammy. I gots woads scareded," Dean admitted, looking down sadly.

Sam kissed his nose, and tightened his grip slightly. "You don't ever have to be scared when I'm around."

Dean started giggling and bouncing in Sam's arms. "My Sammy soopyhewo."

"As long as I don't have to wear tights and a cape."

"Wook funny," giggled Dean, his fear from earlier forgotten as he was held in Sam's protective arms.

The next house they came to, Sam carried Dean in, and waited until Dean was ready before knocking on the door. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Dean nodded, still holding onto his car, and waited nervously for someone to answer the door.

When the woman opened the door, Dean grinned at her. "TWICKY TWEATS!"

"Oh wow. Such a beautiful angel," she said, giving the little boy a handful of chocolate, which she placed in the bag Sam was now holding. "There you go."

"Fank you."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she said, frowning when she saw the tear-streaked little face. "Are you okay honey?"

"I-I gots scareded... nasty meanies taked my's candy."

"Oh dear. Here, you can have the rest of mine, it's getting late anyway."

Dean gasped as he watched the nice lady empty her bowl into the bag Sam was holding for him. "Fank you fank you fank you."

"You're welcome welcome welcome," replied the woman with a smile. "Have a happy halloween. Don't let any of those monsters out there scare you."

"I's bwave angel Deanie," said Dean shyly. "Sammy big soopyhewo."

"He's a little cutie," she said to a proud Sam.

"I know." Sam grinned at Dean, and bounced him twice, making him laugh happily.

"Bye bye," said Dean, waving with a big smile on his face.

"Bye honey." The young woman winked at the little angel, and closed the door.

At the next house, Dean was still being carried by his big brother. When Sam knocked, Dean giggled again and rested his cheek against Sams.

Sam smiled again, and rubbed his nose against Deans. "I love you."

"Woves you, Sammy," replied Dean, turning back to the door when it opened.

"TWICKY TWEATS/TRICK OR TREAT!" yelled the brothers in unison when a young married couple answered the knock.

"Hello boys. Rob give them both some candy," said the wife, nudging her husband, who was holding the bowl.

Rob rolled his eyes, and put two bags of candy into Dean's bag.

"Angels fwy up sky," Dean told them, pointing at his wings. "My Sammy say dat."

"Well, your Sammy's right. Here's another bag of candy."

"Fank you," said Dean sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Awww. He's beautiful," said the wife, putting her hand to her chest.

Sam laughed. "Everyone seems to love him."

"That's because he's a gorgeous little angel," she said, tickling under Dean's chin.

Dean giggled, and hid his face in Sam's neck, going all shy.

"Come on, you're not shy," Sam teased.

"Bless him. We have to go now, but try and get loads more candy, okay?"

"Kay. Bye bye, Mrs Pwetty."

"Bye darling," she said back, her smile widening.

"Come on then, my little angel," said Sam, turning around and carrying his brother out of the garden.

Dean waved at the nice mister and lady over his brothers shoulder.

* * *

It was another hour later, when Sam decided to go back to the motel. Dean now had a full bag of candy, and a couple of chocolate bars in Sam's pocket, which wouldn't fit in the bag.

"Home sweet motel," said Sam, opening the door, and settling Dean down on his bed.

"MR HIBY JIBY!" yelled Dean, throwing his arms around his teddy, and giving him a huge hug.

Sam smiled, and walked over to the fridge to put the bag in there so the chocolate didn't melt, but first he got out a little bar of chocolate first, which he opened for him.

"Here you go, little man."

"Fank you," said Dean, taking it. "Want chocate?" He held it out to his teddy, who of course just sat there while Dean stuck the chocolate right in his furry face.

"Are you alright? You're not still scared are you?"

"No Sammy." Dean shook his head, half his face already covered in chocolate.

Sam laughed, shaking his head fondly. "What am I gonna do with you, you little chocolate monster?"

Dean giggled, taking another bite. "Mr Oogy monster... he go dwives. He has chocate?"

"No, I don't think nice monsters eat chocolate. After you've finished that, it's time to get ready for bed."

* * *

That night, Dean woke up from a scary dream. Whimpering, he sat up with his huge teddy in his arms, and looked around the dark room.

"It dark... and... and scawy, Mr Hiby jiby," he whispered in a trembling voice. "Sammy."

Laying Mr Hiby jiby down, Dean climbed from his bed, and climbed up into his big brothers. Laying right beside him, he wrapped his little arms around Sam, feeling safe. "Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy."

Sam jerked slightly, and opened his eyes to see Dean in his bed. "Dean, what do you want?"

"Huggy hug."

Sam leaned over and put the lamp on, looking at the clock beside the bed as he did so. "Dean, you don't climb into my bed at 3 in the morning, and wake me up just for a hug. Get back in your own bed, and get to sleep. Now."

Tears filled Dean's eyes, and he nodded sadly before he turned to climb off the bed.

Sam immediately felt guilty when he heard Dean sniffling. "Hey come here," he said, holding his arm out. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, I'm tired." When Dean laid beside him again, Sam wrapped his arms around him, and held him to his chest. "Did you have a bad dream, buddy?" he asked, stroking the soft hair.

"Yeah," whispered Dean, his little face nuzzled against his brother's chest.

"I'll tell you what, you go over to your bed, get your pillow and bring it back to my bed, so you can sleep with me tonight, alright?"

"Yeah," Dean said again, before he got down from Sam's bed, and came back a few seconds later.

"Whoa," whispered Sam in shock when something hit him in the face. Opening his eyes, he saw the furry face of Mr Hiby jiby.

Placing his pillow beside Sam, Dean got back in bed.

Sam held Dean close to him, and placed the teddy on Dean's other side, so the little boy laid in the middle. "There we go. Me and Mr Hiby jiby will protect you tonight so you won't have any more bad dreams. Okay?"

"Kay," whispered Dean, relaxing in Sam's arms.

"Nobody will hurt you, baby. They'll have to get passed me and Mr Hiby jiby first."

Dean grinned, and snuggled as close as he could to Sam. Closing his eyes, he heard Sam start singing a song to him.

"Angels watch over you, up in the skies. No need to be scared, so close your eyes. Sammy's not gonna leave you, I'll always be here. As long as I'm around, there's nothing to fear. Sammy's gonna protect you, now and forever. Nobody's gonna hurt you, not now not ever."

Sam smiled when he heard Dean making cute little snuffly noises as he fell asleep. In Dean's relaxed hand, was the blue car, which Sam gently took and placed on the bedside table.

"Night, little angel," he whispered, hugging him tight.

Dean had no more bad dreams for the rest of the night.

***The end***

**Hope you like**


	7. Hell dreams & hugs

**HELL DREAMS & HUGS  
**

**Disclaimer:** **Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Written for a prompt on the Dean-focused hurt/comfort comment-fic meme** **#5**.  
**PROMPT: S4/5. Deans been de-aged and has really bad nightmares about hell, and wakes up crying and screaming bloody murder because he doesn't understand whats going on or why he's having horrible dreams about nasty misters hurting him. Sam's really worried and freaked out slightly, and lays with Dean until he calms down and falls back to sleep.  
**

_*Knives carving into his body. Hooks piercing into his skin. Blood pouring from his body in rivers. Fire all around him.*  
*Cutting, Carving, Bleeding.*  
*Begging, Screaming, Pleading.* _

"SAAAAMMMMMMYYYYYYYY!" came the terrified child's scream in the middle of the night.

It was three in the morning when Sam was woken by the high-pitched screams. He shot up out of bed, and ran over to his now little brother, who was in the grips of a nightmare.

"Dean, hey wake up buddy," said a worried Sam, stroking the floppy blond fringe back from Dean's warm forehead. "Dean?"

Dean was sobbing and screaming, holding his hand out as if he was trying to ward something off. "NOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, tears streaming down his angelic little freckled face.

Sam started shaking Dean awake, his movements frantic. "Dean, baby please wake up." When Dean continued screaming, Sam threw the covers off, and lifted the screaming three year old into his arms.

"SSSSSAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY Y!"

"Shh. Sammy's here, you're safe. Just wake up, sweetheart. Wake up for me," he pleaded, holding Dean against his chest so he could feel Dean's heart hammering against his own. He cupped the back of the blond head gently, fingers running soothingly through the messy hair. "Baby please."

Dean suddenly threw his head back and let out a heartbreaking cry. "HEWP ME!"

Sam closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks as he tried to wake his brother. He stood from the bed with Dean, that was when he noticed the wet pajamas. "Oh no," he whispered when he realised the poor kid was so terrified that he had wet the bed.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Dean, writhing in Sam's arms. His breathing hitched, and his eyes suddenly shot open. "SAAAAAMMMMMMMY!"

"Hey hey hey, baby. I'm here. Sammy's here."

"Sammy." Dean sniffled, his little face crumpled as tears continued falling down his cheeks. He rested his head against Sam's shoulder, his tiny fists clinging onto Sam's t-shirt. "D-D-Deanie scared."

"No need to be scared, baby. I won't ever let anyone hurt you," soothed Sam, kissing his forehead before rocking him in his arms.

"W-Why nasty misters hurts Deanie?" whispered Dean in a trembling voice, looking up at his brother with big round innocent eyes.

"I don't know, buddy. It was just a dream, okay? Nobody can hurt you in dreams."

"N-Not wike fi-fire, Sammy... Hurts."

Sam froze, his heart hammering in his chest. "W-What did you dream about?"  
'_Please not hell, please not hell_.'

"Not know, Sa-Sammy. Na-Nasty misters gots big s-s-stabby fingys... and... and hurts me woads and woads. A-And um..." Dean pulled at the skin on his hand.

"Your skin?" suggested Sam, feeling sick.

"Y-Yeah, sk-skin... and dis..." he stuck out his tongue. "Wunned a-away."

"Oh god no," Sam whispered in horror, running his left hand soothingly up and down Dean's trembling little back, trying to comfort him.  
'_He shouldn't be remembering hell, he's a baby for god's sake.'_

Dean burst into tears again, his cries filling the small room and breaking Sam's heart even more.

"Sammy's here, I'm gonna take care of you," whispered Sam when he felt tears soak into his t-shirt, but Dean didn't seem to hear him through his sobs. He started walking from one side of the room to the other, whispering reassurances and rocking the crying child in his arms.

"Shh. It's alright. I've got you," soothed Sam, stroking Dean's hair gently.

Ten minutes later, Dean calmed down a little bit, but his eyes were still swimming with tears, his breathing still hitched in fear, and his little face was red and blotchy from crying. "W-Why's dey hurt me? D-Deanie in twouble?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"Hey, of course you're not. Dreams aren't real, they can't hurt you."

Dean threw his arms around Sam's neck, and hid his little face against his neck. "W-W-Woves you, Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes, another tear escaping down his face as he kissed Dean's cheek. "I love you too, baby. Try to get some more sleep, okay? I'll stay with you, so you don't have any more scary dreams."

"Nooooo. Scared," mumbled Dean, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Shh. I know, but you don't ever have to be scared with Sammy around, you hear me? If those nasty misters come back into your dreams, I'll come in with you, and kick their asses, okay?"

Dean giggled, and wiped his wet freckled cheeks. "S-Sammy b-bwave giant."

Sam smiled, and rubbed his nose against Dean's tiny one. "And you're my brave baby boy. Come on." He grabbed Dean's pillows and covers, and walked over to his bed.

After arranging the bed, and quickly changing Dean, Sam sat down with him against his chest. "I'll leave the light on, so you don't get scared," he told him, covering them both up.

Dean sniffled, his tiny fists tightening their grip on Sam. "S-Sammy," he cried, big eyes darting around the room, as if expecting something to come and hurt him.

"I'm right here," answered Sam, running his fingers through the blond hair. "Nobody's gonna hurt you. Just close your eyes, I promise I'll protect you."

Whimpering in fear, Dean placed his thumb in his mouth, and closed his eyes, snuggling close to Sam's chest. The beat of his big brother's heart soothing him.

Adjusting the blanket over Dean's back, Sam stroked his cheek, and started humming a Metallica song to him to calm him down.

As Sam hummed one of his favourites to him, Dean relaxed, and fell asleep in his big brother's protective arms.

"Sweet dreams buddy." Sam relaxed back against the pillows, but planned to stay awake all night in-case Dean needed him.

But Dean stayed asleep for the rest of the night, with nice happy dreams of him and his Sammy.

*_Happy, Smiling, Laughing.*  
*Driving, Singing, Playing.*  
*Sun shining as they drove in the Impala, singing along with the music. Giggling when Sam made him laugh, and bought him teddies and toys. Walking through the park, high up on Sammy's shoulders as they both laughed.*_

Laying fast asleep on Sam's chest, Dean smiled.

***The end***

**Hope you like**


	8. Fire killed mommy

**FIRE KILLED MOMMY**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Written for ****a prompt in the Dean-focused hurt/comfort comment-fic meme (#5)  
PROMPT:** **I want Dean de-aged physically and mentally to just about 5 years old. Sam is taking care of him when they walk past a burned out house and the smell and the firefighters and the sirens bring all of little!Dean's buried memories back up. Cue, Sam desperately trying to comfort his panicking, traumatized big little brother.**

"Thank you Sammy," said little Dean happily, bouncing beside his big brother as the two walked down the street. He squealed and started swinging his and Sam's hands together. "It bestest present ever and ever."

Sam grinned down at him, and squeezed the little hand gently. "You're welcome, kiddo. It's not every day my little prince turns five."

Dean giggled, and looked up at Sam with his huge pleading eyes. "Um... I play on car when we go home?"

"Of course you can. That's what I bought it for." The one thing Dean wanted for his 5th birthday was a car, so Sam took him out to buy a motorized jeep, which Dean kept getting excited about. It was due to be delivered to Bobby's within the next hour, since Sam didn't take the Impala with them.

"Ooooh. Thank you Sammy. Thank you thank you thank you," rambled the little boy, clapping in delight. "Oooh."

"Okay, calm down," Sam laughed, ruffling the blond hair.

Dean was giggling again as they rounded the corner, but came to a stop when they saw the house on the corner engulfed in flames, and two fire trucks outside, the group of men in uniform tried to fight the fire. A family were huddled together near their car, watching the fire destroy their home.

Sam frowned, and looked down when he felt the little hand in his suddenly clench tightly around his fingers. "Dean? Dean are you alright?" When Dean didn't answer, Sam knelt in-front of him. His heart broke when he saw the tears fill the big green eyes. "Hey."

Dean wasn't listening, he was trapped somewhere in his memories.  
_*Sammy's room on fire. Mommy on the ceiling, the flames surrounding her. Watching as his mommy burned.*_

The tears which were swimming in his eyes broke free, and streamed down his freckled cheeks. His bottom lip trembled, and his breathing hitched as he cried silently._  
*Daddy placing Sammy in his arms, and telling him to run. Daddy breaking the news that his mommy was now an angel and watching him from heaven.*_

"Dean, talk to me, little man," said Sam, stroking Dean's wet cheek gently. When he still didn't answer, Sam lifted him into his arms and started running from the burning building.

Dean watched the scene from over Sam's shoulder through sad, tear-filled eyes. His little face was red and blotchy as he cried, the sobs breaking Sam's heart even more.

"Mommy," he whispered in a broken voice.

It was the last word he spoke for awhile.

* * *

Rushing into Bobby's house, Sam gently placed Dean onto the couch and ran into the kitchen. "Bobby? Bobby I need your... DAMMIT!" he yelled when he remembered Bobby was out.

He walked back into the living room to see the little boy was hugging his teddy tightly to his chest, and staring at the black TV screen through his tearful eyes. "Dean?" he whispered, kneeling before him. "Are you okay?"

Dean still wasn't answering, which was really worrying Sam. "Hey, it's Sammy. Can you hear me?"

Hearing the familiar name, Dean turned his head to look at his big brother. Sniffling, he burst into tears again.

"Oh god. Come here baby, come here," whispered Sam, wrapping his arms around him, and hugging him tightly to his chest. He had no idea what was wrong, but this was just breaking his heart.

"Shh," he soothed, running his fingers through the soft blond hair, trying to comfort the poor thing. "It's alright. Sammy's got you."

For the next half an hour, the only sounds in Bobby's room were the heartbreaking sobs of the newly turned five year old, and the quiet sniffles from Sam when he could no longer hold his own tears back.

"Hey, are you alright now?" Sam asked in his most gentle voice.

Dean just turned huge eyes to Sam, but remained silent as he hugged Mr bananas, his monkey teddy.

"Do you... er... Do you want to watch Finding Nemo? You love that, don't you?"

Dean nodded slowly, bottom lip trembling.

"Okie dokie," said Sam, stroking the freckled cheek gently. "I'll even go get the special ice cream from the fridge. Would you like that too, birthday boy?"

Placing his finger in his mouth, Dean nodded again, his eyes huge and hopeful.

"I'll be back in a sec." Ruffling Dean's hair, Sam walked over to put the TV on and place Dean's DVD into the player, before turning to the kitchen.

As he got out the tub of chocolate and strawberry ice cream, Sam took a shuddering breath, and blinked the tears from his eyes. He didn't know how to help Dean, or what was wrong, but he was going to be with him every step of the way.

Coming back into the living room, Sam sat down on the couch, and placed Dean on his knee. Making sure they were comfortable, Sam wrapped himself and his little brother in a blanket and snuggled up together with the ice cream between them.

After eating a few mouthfuls, Dean placed the spoon back in the tub, and laid his head against Sam's chest, his thumb in his mouth while he watched the movie.

"Do you want something else to eat? How about some of your birthday cake? We can go out and get pie if you want."

With a sniffle, Dean shook his head and whimpered.

"Okay. If you want to talk, I'll be right here to listen," Sam promised, kissing the soft hair.

* * *

When Bobby came back that evening, Dean still hadn't said a word.

Sam was even more worried as he watched his little brother sat silently watching Toy story. He was no longer sobbing, but the big green eyes still streamed tears, like blood from a wound that can never be fully healed.

"He hasn't spoken at all?"

"No. I don't know what to do," Sam whispered sadly. "I've offered to take him out to get pie, tried playing robots and cars with him, even asked him if he wanted to take his jeep out for a ride, but he just shook his head."

Bobby frowned, and shook his head. "And all this is because he saw a fire?"

"I think so. He was all happy and excited to ride his new car, then as soon as we turned the corner, he just froze when he saw the house."

"What about the Impala?" Bobby asked suddenly, making Sam frown in confusion.

"Well, that wasn't on fire, it was in the yard."

"No dumbass, take him for a ride. Since he was a kid... the first time, one thing that always cheers him up, is going for a ride in that car. See if it'll work this time."

A big smile lit up Sam's face. "Great idea. We'll be back in an hour," he said, before going to kneel in-front of the upset little boy. "Hey little man, do you want to go for a ride in the Impala with me?"

Dean turned his huge tearful eyes up to Sam, and held his arms out to Sam to be picked up.

"Come on then," said Sam, wrapping Dean in the blanket, before lifting him into his arms.

Dean rested his head on Sam's shoulder, and raised one hand to wave at his uncle Bobby.

"Bye buddy, have a good time, okay?" said Bobby, waving back with a smile.

Dean nodded, and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, his monkey teddy dangling from his right hand as Sam carried him outside.

"Here we go," whispered Sam, opening the front door, and placing his silent brother in the passenger seat. Usually Dean went in the back with either Sam or Bobby, but this time Sam needed his little brother as close as possible, and he knew Dean needed it too.

Running around to the other side, Sam climbed into the drivers seat. He smiled over at Dean, and lifted him onto his knee, before starting the car.

"Do you want some music on?" asked Sam, getting the box of cassette tapes out. "You can choose."

Looking down at the tapes, Dean pointed at one at random with the hand not squeezing his teddy.

"Okay, this is one of your favourites." Sam placed the tape into the player, and turned it up when 'Stairway to heaven' played through the car.

Sam looked down at Dean, and saw the tiny smile cross his face, which made his heart warm.

"Let's go baby," he whispered, before driving out of Bobby's yard.

While he drove, Sam looked down at the little boy curled up against his chest, and saw the big green eyes, which were darting around trying to look at everything as they passed by were bloodshot and puffy from crying. But they still continued to stream, like someone had left the water running inside him, and forgot to turn the tap off.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Dean wiped his freckled cheeks, and shook his head, snuggling closer to Sam's chest.

"I love you, you know that?"

Dean nodded, and slowly brought his free hand up, and placed it on Sam's chest, over his heart. For some reason that made Sam want to cry.

"You don't have to be scared of anything if I'm around, okay? I won't ever let anyone hurt you," Sam whispered, turning the wheel slightly to turn left.

Dean sniffled, and raised his head to look up at his brother.

"If you want to talk, you can talk to me... or Mr Bananas," he said with a laugh when he saw how tightly Dean was holding his teddy.

Another tiny smile crossed Dean's tear-streaked face, and his little hand clenched Sam's shirt tighter.

"Do you want something to eat? How about we get some pie?" suggested Sam, remembering Dean had been too upset to eat anything earlier.

Dean looked down shyly, and shrugged when his little stomach started rumbling, making Sam laugh.

"Oooh, sounds like we have to feed our little food monster, before he eats us all," he joked, gently placing his big hand over Dean's small stomach.

Sam drove around to find the nearest diner to get Dean some pie. Ten minutes later, he parked the car and got out with Dean in his arms.

As he carried his little brother inside, Sam felt Dean wrap his little legs around him, and his heart hammering against his own chest. "Shh. No need to be afraid."

After ordering two pieces of apple pie covered in ice cream, Sam carried Dean over to a free booth and sat him down beside him.

"Happy birthday, little man," said Sam, watching Dean grab his spoon and slowly eat a mouthful of the ice cream.

Making sure Dean was alright, Sam started eating his own pie. After every mouthful, he kept shooting glances at the little boy to make sure he wasn't getting upset again.

Even as he ate, Dean still didn't let go of Mr Bananas. He held him tightly in the crook of his left arm, offering the teddy some every two minutes, which made Sam smile.

When Sam finished, he put down his spoon, propped his elbow on the table, and rested his chin in his hand as he watched Dean. "Is that nice?" he asked, reaching over to ruffle the blond hair.

Dean looked up at Sam, his mouth full of pie, and nodded.

When the little boy finally finished his small piece, he climbed onto Sam, and knelt on his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Sam blinked in surprise, and held him tightly in his arms. "Are you alright?" He felt a nod against his shoulder. "Do you just want a hug?" Another nod. He smiled, and tightened his hold, giving his brother a special big hug. "There you go, baby. If you ever need a hug, you just come straight to me, alright?"

When Dean was ready, Sam stood from the seat and carried his brother and his monkey back to the waiting Impala.

After making sure Dean was comfortable against his chest, Sam started the car and drove out of the parking lot and out onto the street.

As he watched the scenery pass, Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

Sam took his eyes off the road for one second and looked down at his brother. He smiled when he saw how sleepy he looked, it seemed like the Impala still worked her magic on younger Dean too.

"Try and sleep, okay?" Sam whispered, reaching over to turn the music down a little.

Dean stubbornly shook his head, and sat up a little as he looked out of the window.

Sam rolled his eyes, and took one hand from the wheel to wrap around Dean's small body when his head started lolling forward as he fought sleep. He thought it was adorable how Dean kept rubbing his eyes with his fists, and looking around with eyes which were only half open.

Instead of driving straight back to Bobby's, Sam decided to stay out a little longer and drove his brother around for the next twenty minutes until he felt Dean's head lay back against his chest, and his breathing deepen when he finally gave up fighting.

"Sweet dreams, little man," Sam whispered, pulling up in Bobby's yard.

After stopping the car, Sam gently put his arms under Dean's back and legs, and carefully climbed out of the car with his sleeping little brother cradled in his arms.

"Bobby," Sam called quietly so he didn't wake Dean. He was standing at the front door with his arms full so he couldn't open the door himself without dropping Dean.

Apparently hearing the quiet call, Bobby opened the door and stood staring at Dean with a worried expression. "Is he okay?"

"I think so," answered Sam, carrying him over to the couch, rearranging the blanket so he didn't get cold. "I took him to get some pie. I think he's exhausted from all the crying."

"So he still hasn't spoken?"

"No, but there was a couple of times that he smiled," whispered Sam, kneeling in-front of the couch to look after his sleeping brother. "It was only a tiny smile, but that's the closest he's come to smiling since he saw the fire."

"Well, smiling is a million times better than him crying. Want some coffee? I've just put some on."

"Yeah thanks. I'm gonna need it, I'm not going to sleep tonight," said Sam, running his fingers through Dean's hair. "In-case Dean has any nightmares, and needs me."

Bobby nodded, and turned to the kitchen to make them both some coffee.

It was going to be a long night.

***That night***

As it turned out, neither Sam or Bobby got any sleep when Dean woke up screaming bloody murder at two in the morning.  
*_The heat from the fire. The firefighters trying to save his mommy._ _Holding Sammy while he watched their house burn. His mommy still inside.*_

"Shh, it's alright baby. It's alright," soothed Sam, carrying the crying little boy around their bedroom, trying to get him settled again.

"Shall I get him some milk, or something?" suggested Bobby, stifling a yawn against his hand.

Sam nodded, but didn't look away from his little brother. He continued rocking Dean in his arms and stroking his back and his hair, but it didn't seem to do any good; Dean just cried.

"Shh. I love you, you know I do," Sam started singing softly. "Do anything for you. I'll run into hell, and back again. I love you, yes I do."

Dean stopped screaming when he heard Sam singing his song.

Sam smiled when Dean calmed a little, his little chest heaving against his own as his breathing hitched and hiccupped. The screaming was the only real sound he had made since he saw the fire, and it was even more heartbreaking than the silence.

"If you're upset, and your cheeks are wet. I'll make you smile again. I'll give you some huggles, and plenty of snuggles. I'll always be here, I will."

Dean sniffled, and placed his thumb in his mouth as he listened to the song.

"If there's something to fear, Sammy will wipe away your tears. He loves you, yes he does. If anything scares you, if anyone dares to. I'll protect you, yes I will."

Sam looked down, and smiled when he saw Dean's sleeping face against his shoulder. He carried Dean back to bed, and gently placed him in the middle. "Love you," he whispered, gently covering him up, and climbing in beside him. He wrapped his arms around the small body, and held him to his chest protectively.

Bobby cleared his throat, and came into the room. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "I just hope he starts to talk soon."

"Me too Sam, me too."

* * *

***A few days later*  
**

* * *

Nearly a week later, Dean still wasn't talking. Sam and Bobby had tried everything they could think of to cheer him up, but nothing had worked.

Dean was sitting on the couch watching cartoons, Mr Bananas was still wrapped in his arms. He hadn't put the monkey down in days, he seemed to take comfort in it.

"I don't know what to do, Bobby," sighed Sam, running his fingers through his hair.

"Me neither. I remember yer daddy telling me that Dean was silent for months after..." Bobby trailed off, his eyes going wide as he realised something. "Hells bells."

Sam stared at Bobby for a few seconds. "Er... Why are you quoting AC/DC songs at me?"

"Ugh. How can we be such idjits?"

Sam managed to look even more confused. "What?"

Bobby sighed, and looked at Dean, then Sam. "How old is Dean?"

"You mean big Dean or..."

"Little Dean," Bobby interrupted impatiently. "How old is he?"

"He's just turned five. Why?"

"How old was Dean when yer mom died?"

Sam blinked, and continued staring at Bobby. His eyes widened when he finally understood what the older man was talking about. "He was four, nearly five," he whispered.

"Exactly. When he saw that fire on his fifth birthday, it obviously brought his buried memories back, and reminded him of the night he lost his mom."

Sam closed his eyes, and put his hand over his face. "No wonder he's so upset, the poor little guy. God, how could we be such idiots?"

Bobby smiled sadly, and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "We'll help him through it, Sam. He started talking before."

"Yeah, but that took months. I don't think I could go that long without hearing him talk or laugh," said Sam quietly, turning to look at the little boy, who was sniffling and wiping his cheeks again.

"Hey little man, I'm here," said Sam, rushing over to the couch, and lifting him into his arms. "Shh. I've gotcha."

Dean hid his face against Sam's shoulder, and pointed frantically at the TV as he cried his eyes out. Sam frowned, and looked at what Dean was pointing at, and saw Fireman Sam on the screen.

"Crap." Sam grabbed the remote with his free hand, and turned it over. "Hey, it's gone now, baby. It's alright."

Dean's sobbing broke Sam's already shattered heart once more. He gently ran his fingers through Dean's soft blond hair, trying to comfort his traumatised brother.

"Shh. I know what's wrong now, and I'm gonna help you, you hear me? Me and uncle Bobby are going to do whatever it takes to make you our happy little boy again."

Dean closed his eyes as tears streamed down his freckled cheeks, his little fists clenched onto Sam's shirt and his teddy monkey. He really did not like fire, it scared him.

While Sam held Dean, his eyes turned to the movie, which was playing on the TV now. A group of mourners were grouped together around a grave as they said goodbye to someone they loved, and an idea suddenly came to him.

* * *

Later, Dean settled down, and was having a nap on the couch. He was holding Mr Bananas tightly to his chest, his thumb in his mouth as he slept without nightmares for once.

"Are ya sure this is a good idea, Sam?" asked Bobby when Sam finished telling him his idea.

Sam shrugged, and stared down at Dean. "I have to do something, Bobby. We can't leave him like this. It's the only thing I can think of."

"Okay, When are ya taking him?"

"Since he's finally sleeping peacefully, I was thinking about tomorrow morning," Sam told him quietly. "I hope it works. If it doesn't, I don't know how else to help him." Tears swam in Sam's eyes, so he closed them, trying his best not to break down.

Bobby placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I need him back, Bobby. I need my happy little boy back," he whispered tearfully. "I miss him. I miss seeing him jumping around the house like Tigger on drugs or something. I miss hearing him laugh."

"Me too, Sam. Take him tomorrow, we'll just have to hope it works.

***The next morning***

It was at five the next morning when Sam got a still silent Dean dressed. After wrapping his brother up in a warm coat, he hugged him to his chest and held him for several minutes.

When Dean looked questioningly up at him, Sam smiled and tweaked his nose. "Come on, my brave little soldier."

Dean nodded, and grabbed his teddy before holding his arms up to Sam.

"We're going, Bobby," Sam told the older man, lifting Dean up into his arms.

Bobby came in from the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Still don't see why ya have to get up this early."

"It's a really long drive," Sam told him, picking up his duffel with his free hand. He decided to stay overnight at a motel after they did what he needed to. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Take care of him, Sam. Call me after to let me know if it worked."

"Of course I will," said Sam, before turning to Dean. "Say bye to uncle Bobby."

Dean turned sleepily to Bobby, and waved at him.

"Bye kid. See ya soon."

* * *

At five in the afternoon, Sam finally pulled up outside the iron gates.

After reluctantly waking Dean up, he grabbed the red rose and pink balloon from the backseat and the two walked into the cold cemetery together.

Eventually Sam walked Dean to the right grave, and gave him the red rose. "Dean, this is mommy's special garden," he told him quietly. "Put the rose down for her."

Dean took his hand away from Sam's and sat down with his little legs crossed, placing the flower on the mud in-front of him where there was a little rosebush growing, which had been planted recently.

Sam smiled sadly, and sat behind him, wrapping the little form in his arms. "This is somewhere very special where you can talk to mommy, and she can hear you all the way from her big fluffy cloud up in heaven."

Dean turned his head, and looked up at Sam with huge watery green eyes.

"Go on," Sam encouraged with a gentle squeeze. "This is somewhere very safe and protected." He watched as Dean turned back around, and reached forward to touch the writing on the headstone.

"That's mommy's name. It says Mary Winchester. Are you gonna say hello to her? I think she'll like that."

"Mommy," whispered Dean in a tearful voice.

A grin crossed Sam's face when Dean finally spoke for the first time in days. "Is there anything you want to say to mommy?"

Dean was silent for a few seconds, making Sam wonder if he had stopped talking again. "Dean, are you-" he started, but was cut off when Dean spoke again.

"Why did you die mommy?"

Sam bit his lip and blinked rapidly, struggling not to cry.

"Mommy died on fire," Dean told Sam quietly.

"Do you... er... do you remember what happened?"

"Fire... Really hot. Mommy on roof, then daddy gived Sammy to me and said run." Dean frowned in confusion, and looked up at Sam. "Sammy? My Sammy?"

"Yeah. I'm your Sammy. After mommy became an angel, you had to look after me, but daddy was too upset to take care of you. So once when you was really sad, you prayed for a big brother to look after you too... So here I am," Sam told him, knowing Dean would be freaked out if he told him a witch had put a spell on him, and made him small again. "It's my turn to be the big brother, and take care of you for awhile. Is that okay?"

Dean thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Do you love me mommy?" he asked the headstone.

Sam gently stroked Dean's cheek. "Of course she does, and I bet she's really proud of you too."

"But... but why did she die?"

"Hey," said Sam, tilting Dean's face up, so he could look at him. "Mommy didn't go to heaven because she stopped loving you. And just because she's not here, it doesn't mean she's stopped. She'll be up on her cloud, watching over you and smiling because she loves you sooooo much."

A tear fell down the freckled cheek, and his bottom lip started trembling. He turned back to the headstone, and ran his fingers over it. "Mommy pretty angel? And... and have big wings?"

"Yeah, She's the most beautiful angel in all of heaven. God only takes the most special and amazing people to be his angels, and that's what mommy is."

Dean nodded, and asked another question. "Fire scare mommy?"

"No. I think she was more scared about getting me and you out of the house, so we didn't get hurt too."

"Fire scare me," admitted the little boy with a sniffle. "It really scary."

Sam closed his eyes, and hugged his little brother tighter. "I promise you, I'll protect you from everything that ever wants to hurt you... and that includes fires. Mommy will protect you too, that's her one and only job, so she'll always be there to watch over you."

Dean wiped his eyes, and smiled. He looked up and saw the sun shining brightly in the sky. "M-Mommy always say that. Hiya mommy," he said with a wave.

Sam smiled again, and looked up too. He was glad he had the idea to come here. When something gently nudged his head, he looked up at the balloon that was floating above him.

"Hey little man," he said, holding it out to Dean. "Stand up with me."

Dean looked at Sam confused, but put down his teddy and stood up. Sam knelt beside him, so he reached his height.

"Hold onto this tightly," Sam told him, placing the string in Dean's small hands. "Now close your eyes, and tell mommy you love her, then let it go. It will fly all the way to heaven, and mommy will catch it and keep it forever."

Dean nodded, and did what Sam told him to. "I love you mommy. Hundreds and millions," he whispered, before kissing the balloon and letting it go.

The two Winchesters held hands, and watched the pink balloon float up into the sky, both had tears running down their cheeks.

The sky brightened slightly, but rain started pouring from the sky, making Dean gasp. "Mommy's crying."

"Don't worry, those are happy tears. I think she loves the present from her special little man."

A huge smile lit up Dean's entire face, and warmed Sam's heart. It was the first real smile since his fifth birthday.

"Anytime you want to talk to mommy, we'll come here again, okay?"

The two stayed there together at their mum's headstone for awhile longer.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Sam asked Dean almost twenty minutes later. When Dean nodded, Sam took his hand again, and the two stood up. "Say bye to mommy."

Dean looked up at the sky with a grin, and waved. "Bye bye mommy. Love you." He looked up at Sam. "I play on my car at home please?"

"Of course you can."

As the two brothers walked hand in hand out of the cemetery, a rainbow suddenly appeared right where Dean's balloon had floated up into the sky.

***The End***

**Hope you like.  
**


	9. Daddy Sammy, Baby Deanie

**DADDY SAMMY, BABY DEANIE.  
****  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Dean's been turned into a 5 month old baby, Sam tries to look after him at Bobby's.  
**  
Bobby shook his head, and walked back into the living room with the bottle of baby milk. He never thought he would ever have another baby in his house, but Dean being turned into a five month old baby just a few hours ago proved him wrong.

The older man entered the room, and stopped when he saw Sam leaning forward on the couch, staring at his sleeping baby brother, who was snuggled in his tiny baby carrier, with wide unblinking eyes.

"Sam, what the hell are ya staring at the poor kid for?"

"Making sure he's alright. He's been asleep for about two hours now, is that normal?"

Bobby stared at him for several seconds. "Sam, all babies do is sleep. Of course it's normal. Ya can take yer eyes off him for a second, ya know."

"I can't. What if something happens to him?"

"Like what? There's nothing around to hurt him."

"But what if he wakes up, and climbs out?" asked Sam, chewing on his fingernail worriedly, still not taking his eyes off Dean.

"Don't be such an idjit Sam, he can barely sit up without support. How the hell can he undo the strap, and climb out of the baby seat? He's a baby."

"Oh my god. What if a bird crashes through the window, and attacks him?" asked Sam, panicked eyes shooting up to look at the window. "Or what if a dog comes in from the street, and eats him?"

"Now yer being ridiculous."

"Okay then... What if he gets attacked by something supernatural?"

"Like what? There's no way anything can get in here, the whole house is protected, ya know that," Bobby told him, placing the bottle on the table. "Give him that when he wakes up, I'm going back in the kitchen to check through the rest of my books to see if there's any way to reverse the spell."

"Uh-huh," said Sam, not really listening. He leaned forward, and stuck his finger in Dean's mouth.

Bobby's eyebrows shot so far up, they disappeared under his cap. "What the hell are ya doing now?"

"Opening his mouth."

"Er... why?" asked Bobby, confused.

"To make sure he can breathe," Sam told him, sitting back as he continued to stare.

"Oh for... He's got a nose to take care of that problem. Leave him alone."

"Do you think he's okay sleeping like that?"

Bobby closed his eyes, and resisted the urge to strangle him. "What now?"

"His head's leaning to the side, and his face looks... it's sort of pale, and his cheeks look a bit red."

"It's called pink, Sam. All babies are that colour."

"But what if all of the blood is rushing to one side of his head? He could get brain damage or something," Sam whispered, eyes going wide in horror at the thought.

"Don't be stupid, Sam. Babies sleep like that all the time."

"Maybe we should wake him up. See if he's alright."

"Sam, if ya dare wake the poor kid up, I'm gonna beat ya to death with this book, okay?" Bobby asked, holding up the book he had in his hand.

"Do you think he's warm enough? I'm gonna get him another blanket," said Sam, getting up without waiting for an answer.

Bobby shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He walked over to the little baby, who was sound asleep. "Yer brother's insane," he whispered so he didn't wake him up.

"I'M BACK!" yelled Sam, charging back downstairs, and into the room. "Is he alright? Did he wake up yet?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, and walked back into the kitchen, muttering about overprotective morons.

"Hey, little guy, I'm back," Sam whispered, covering his brother up with the big shirt. "I couldn't find any more blankets... So you'll have to use my shirt. Are you doing okay? I wish you'd wake up, so I know you're okay."

Sam looked over at the door to make sure Bobby wasn't coming back into the room, then back at the baby. "Sorry," he whispered, before poking Dean in the stomach with one finger.

Dean whimpered, but didn't wake up, so Sam poked him again.

This time the tiny baby jerked and opened his big emerald green eyes. Dean's bottom lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears.

"Thank god," Sam sighed in relief.

Seeing the shaggy-haired man in-front of him, Dean closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and started screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks.

As the screaming grew louder, Sam grimaced and put his hands over his ears. "Okay, you can stop now."

Bobby ran back into the room. "What happened?"

"Er... Nothing," Sam answered, a guilty expression crossing his face.

"Ya woke the poor kid up, didn't ya?"

"I had to. I had to see if he was breathing okay," Sam answered, but couldn't be heard over Dean screaming bloody murder. The tiny fists were clenched, the little face scrunched up and bright red as he cried his eyes out.

"Sam, will ya pick the poor kid up before he screams the house down?"

"How?" asked Sam, looking down at Dean, as though he might be dangerous.

"What do ya mean, how? It's not that difficult. Pick him up and hold him like a football."

"But what if I crush him or drop him, or something?"

Bobby rolled his eyes again. "Yer not gonna crush him, idjit. Just pick him up."

"O-Okay," said a nervous Sam, unstrapping his brother, and gently lifting him up slowly and cautiously. "Now what do I do?"

"Hold him to yer chest. Haven't ya ever been near a baby before?"

"Not really. Dean's the one who's good with kids. I don't ever remember being around any on my own before," Sam told him, cradling the screaming baby to his chest, supporting his head, and wrapping the shirt around him like a blanket, so he didn't get cold. "Now what? Should I give him the bottle?"

"It would help. I didn't make it for nothing. Just stick it in his mouth, before he deafens us all."

Sam picked up the formula, and stuck it in Dean's open mouth. "Hey, are you hungry, Deanie?"

Dean's lips sucked on the thing in his mouth, his cries receding, his eyes going wide as he suckled on the bottle hungrily.

"I guess you are hungry," laughed Sam. He looked down into the large wet eyes looking back up at him, and immediately fell in love with the tiny form in his arms. "Aren't you a little cutie?"

Dean's lips curled into a smile around the bottle, his arms flailing in-front of him, little legs kicking excitedly.

"Aw. I guess he likes ya," said a smiling Bobby, watching the cute scene in-front him.

After Dean finished the milk, Sam looked over at Bobby. "It's gone. Now what?"

"Sit him up, and rub his back until he burps."

"Okay." Sam bit his lip nervously, and did what Bobby told him to. "Why do I have to..." He blinked in surprise when Dean burped loudly, then giggled. "Whoa. We should start calling you Barney Gumble from the Simpsons," he laughed, laying him back down in his arms, and tickling under his chin.

"I'm Sammy. I'm your little... uh... I'm your big brother," Sam told him with a smile, stroking the chubby freckled cheek. He gasped in shock when the tiny fingers curled around his pinkie finger, the big green eyes stared up at him, seeming mesmerised by the man smiling down at him. "Awww. Bobby, look he's staring at me," he told the older man excitedly with a big grin on his face.

Dean giggled at him, and gurgled.

"Awwww. He's laughing at me," said Sam in amazement, it had to be the cutest sound he had ever heard in his life.

"Sam, I don't need a running commentary of everything he's doing. I'm not blind."

"Okay." He was silent for a few seconds, until Dean tugged on Sam's finger, and placed it in his mouth, sucking on it like it was a pacifier. "Awwwwww. Look Bobby, look."

"For crying out loud, Sam. If ya don't quit it, I'm gonna throw ya out of the window."

When Sam ignored him and continued grinning like a manic clown, Bobby turned around and walked into the kitchen. He had work to do.

"Who's a cute little baby boy? Is it you? Yes it is."

Dean let go of Sam's finger, and giggled again, squirming in his arms.

Sam sat back properly against the couch cushions, tickling his stomach and under his chin. As he watched the adorable little baby laugh, Sam's heart suddenly filled with love and protectiveness for the tiny defenseless form in his arms. "I love you," he whispered. "I'm gonna love and protect you until you get big again... But until then, you're my baby, and I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you."

Dean of course didn't understand a word he said; he just babbled excitedly as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Sam gently ran his finger down Dean's cheek, and started singing softly. "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little..."

Dean jumped in shock at the sudden noise, his bottom lip trembling, his green eyes filling with tears.

"Whoa. My singing's not that bad," said a surprised Sam, rocking him gently in his arms. "Sorry. I'm sorry, please don't cry because of me. Please. I didn't mean to make you cry."

When the baby continued to cry, Sam stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes. Dean's breathing hiccupped, and his cries lessened as he watched Sam pulling funny faces at him, making him giggle again.

"There you go," said Sam with a laugh. He laid Dean gently over his lap, and pulled his ears and puffed out his cheeks, looking like a monkey.

Dean stared at him for a second, before laughing and squealing as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

"Oh my god. Aren't you adorable?" Sam whispered, tweaking the tiny nose, before kissing it gently. "Yes you are, yes you are."

Dean reached up, and grabbed a handful of Sam's hair, which was hanging over his little face. He tugged on it, making Sam cry out.

"Ow. You little monkey," laughed Sam, gently taking his hair out of the tiny fists. "That's my hair, Deanie. You'll grow some soon."

Dean's little face scrunched up, before letting out a little sneeze.

Sam froze, his eyes going wide. "Oh no. BOBBY! BOBBY!"

"What?" said the older man, running back into the room, a worried expression on his face. "Is he alright?"

"He sneezed. Should we take him to the doctor? He could be sick."

"Oh for the love of..." Bobby slapped his hand over his face, and turned back to go into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about beating Sam to death, and burying him in his yard.

"Are you okay, little guy?" Sam whispered worriedly, placing his big hand on the tiny face to check for a temperature. He sighed in relief when he felt how cool Dean was. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you were sick."

Dean responded by sticking out his tongue, and blowing a raspberry.

"You really are Dean, aren't you?" asked Sam, laughing.

Hearing Sam's laughter, made Dean giggle again, and he raised his arms to be picked up.

Sam gasped, and picked Dean up, cradling him against his chest.

Dean gurgled, and snuggled against Sam's chest, looking up at him with a smile.

"Awww," said Sam, his heart melting.

* * *

A few hours later, Dean was asleep again, and Sam really needed a wee, so he stood up and carried the baby into the kitchen. "Hey Bobby, I need to go to the bathroom. Look after Deanie for me."

"Er... Okay." Bobby held out his arms, so Sam gently lowered Dean into them. "Whoa. He's so tiny."

Sam smiled, and watched the older man pull back the shirt Dean was wrapped in, so he could see the sleeping face.

"Aw," said Bobby quietly, running one finger down the chubby cheek. After a couple of seconds of holding him, another hunter had fallen in love with little baby Dean.

Sam stood watching Bobby with Dean for a minute, before he started bouncing on the spot.

"Sam, will ya go to the frigging toilet, before ya pee all over the floor?" Bobby said, not looking away from Dean.

"Oh yeah." Sam turned around, and shot out of the room and upstairs.

Bobby shook his head with a fond smile. "Yer brother's a freak." Looking down at the baby, Bobby finally realised why Sam was so overprotective over him, he was so tiny and defenseless. Not to mention, the cutest baby he had ever seen.

After a few minutes, Dean became restless, and started squirming. "Hey, it's alright little man."

Instead of staying asleep, Dean opened his eyes and looked around the kitchen. When he didn't see what he was looking for, he started whimpering then crying.

"Hey, I don't look that scary," Bobby joked, running his finger gently down the red cheek, trying to calm him down. He rolled his eyes when he heard what sounded like a herd of elephants stampeding down the stairs.

"WHATS WRONG?" yelled a panicked Sam, running back into the kitchen, his eyes wide. "Is he alright?"

As soon as Dean saw Sam, a toothless grin crossed his face, and he started giggling with excitement.

The two men stood staring down at him. "Er… what happened?" asked Sam, smiling when Dean waved his tiny arms at him.

Bobby grinned. "I think he wants ya, Sam," he said, holding the baby out.

Sam bit his lip, and very carefully took his baby brother into his arms. "Hey there, did you miss me?"

Dean gurgled, and brought up his tiny hand to touch Sam's nose. "Aaahhh-gooo."

"Really? One of them?" asked Sam with an impressed expression. He looked over at Bobby, then the books littered across the table. "Have you found anything yet?"

"No," Bobby sighed, shaking his head.

"Could we leave it for a week or two?" asked Sam quietly, looking back down at the baby. "I want to spend a little time being his daddy. I'll never have kids, I just want..." He blushed slightly, and stopped talking.

Bobby smiled at him. "Of course we can. It's nice having a baby around... Especially one as cute as this one," he said, tickling the little stomach with one finger, making him giggle again. "Awww. Look at the little man laughing."

"See? You're doing it now," said Sam with a laugh.

"Shut it," Bobby warned, pointing a finger at him. "Hey, do ya want some coffee?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I better take this little mister back into the room." Sam stuck his tongue out at Dean, before carrying him back into the living room. He sat back against the couch cushions, with the fragile form in his arms.

"What's that smell?" He lifted Dean up slightly and sniffed, his nose scrunching up at the horrible smell coming from Dean's diaper. "Ugh. It's you." He grabbed the baby bag he had bought earlier, and opened it up to take out a new diaper, powder and baby wipes.

He laid Dean down on the couch, and took off the tiny blue pajama bottoms. "A bit of warning, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Bobby came in with two cups of coffee, and stopped when he saw Sam. "What the hell are ya doing? Arresting him?"

"What are you talking about? I'm trying to change him. He stinks."

"Lay him on his back, not his front, idjit. Ya don't lay him like that."

"How am I supposed to know? I haven't got a clue what I'm doing," said Sam, turning Dean around, and taking off the dirty diaper. "There we go." He grimaced and cleaned Dean up with one of the baby wipes.

Bobby watched Sam's face with amusement. "After ya do that, put the new diaper under him, and some baby powder on his butt."

"Okay," said Sam, placing the baby wipe in the old diaper, before fastening it. He lifted Dean up slightly by his legs, and placed the new one under him. Before he could pick up the powder, a spray of water suddenly splashed him in the face.

"WHOA!" Sam cried, closing his eyes as the spray continued for several seconds.

Bobby couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"You little-" Opening his eyes, Sam glared down at the baby, who started kicking his legs, giggling at him.

It was adorable, and made Sam smile even as he wiped the wetness from his face. "Did you just pee on me, little mister?" he asked, poking the cute baby in the stomach gently.

Dean gurgled, and smiled up at him with a big toothless grin.

"Awww. You're a little cutie, aren't you?" Sam whispered, ignoring Bobby, who was still laughing at him.

"Oh, I wish I recorded that... It was hilarious. Ya should've seen yer face," laughed Bobby, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Shut up. It wasn't funny." After putting some powder on him, Sam fastened the diaper and lifted him up. "I did it... Ooh, it's staying on. Bobby, I did it. I changed him."

"Congratulations. I'll call the newspapers later. It'll be front page news tomorrow."

Sam dressed Dean again, and laid him on his knee. He placed his hands over his face, then moved them away, saying, "Peek-a-boo."

Dean waved his arms around, and squealed in excitement.

"Peek-a-boo," said Sam again, making Dean laugh louder.

Bobby watched the brothers with a smile. It was so nice to have a child's laughter in his house again, it had been awhile.

* * *

That evening, Sam was trying to get a tired Dean to go to sleep.

"Come on, Deanie. You need sleep," Sam tried telling him, placing his bottle in his mouth.

Dean's eyes widened, and he started suckling the milk hungrily. The big green orbs looked up at Sam sleepily.

Sam grinned back at him, and hummed a nursery rhyme while he fed his brother his bottle.

After finishing the milk, Sam brought Dean up to his shoulder, and rubbed his back until he burped.

"Little piggy," laughed Sam, kissing his cheek, before laying across the couch with Dean still on his chest. "Hey, even though I don't really know what I'm doing, I'm gonna do my best to look after you for the next week. Nobody's going to hurt you with me and uncle Bobby around."

"Are you okay?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question since Dean probably didn't understand what he was saying most of the time. He looked down, and saw Dean's eyes were closed, and he was sucking on his fingers.

"Aw. Sleep tight, Deanie. I love you," Sam whispered, closing his own eyes. He was just going to rest his eyes, but he wasn't going to sleep. Several seconds later, he was snoring softly.

When Bobby came back into the room two minutes later, it was to see Sam asleep on the couch with little baby Dean sleeping on his chest. Sam's arms were wrapped around him, protecting him even when he was sleeping.

Bobby didn't notice just how tiny Dean was until he saw that his head was laying over his big brother's heart, and his legs reached Sam's stomach. He took out his phone, and took a picture of them, it was too cute not to.

"G'night boys," he whispered, sitting in his chair to watch over the two Winchesters while they slept.

***The end***

**Hope you like.**


	10. A wish for a white Christmas P1

**A WISH FOR A WHITE CHRISTMAS  
**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.**

**Usually these are one-shots, but it just keeps getting longer, so I've split it into 2 parts instead.  
**

**Written for ****a prompt in the ****Winter/Holiday themed Dean-focused h/c comment-fic meme.  
PROMPT-** **Dean's been de-aged a few weeks before Christmas & a couple of days before the big day he gets sick, and there's still no snow. Dean's really upset so Sam does whatever it takes to give his little brother a white Christmas.****  
**

**Chapter one  
**

A few days before Christmas, Sam awoke to someone crying and sniffling. Opening his eyes, he turned around and saw his tiny three year old brother sitting on the chair by the windowsill, hugging his teddy bear and crying.

"Hey," said a worried Sam, immediately jumping out of bed, and rushing over to the window to kneel in-front of his little brother. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Dean wiped his freckled cheeks, and looked up at Sam with huge watery green eyes. The look on his face broke Sam's heart. "I-I sad, S-S-Sammy."

"Why?" whispered Sam, trying to wipe the tears away, but more filled his eyes, and spilled down his cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"S-Santa not maked it snow," he whispered, lowering his head, and sniffling.

Sam frowned, and wrapped his arms around the little boy, and held him to his chest. "It's alright. There's no need to cry, come here."

As Dean cried, he snuggled against Sam's chest, and wiped his red nose on his shirt. He sniffled and coughed as he tried to hide in Sam's arms, wanting his big brother to make him feel better again.

"Shh. Sammy's got you," Sam whispered, stroking his hair. The hand drifted down to Dean's forehead, and he felt that he was burning up. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" Without waiting for an answer, he scooped him up into his arms and carried him back to bed.

Dean pouted miserably up at Sam as he covered him up with the quilt, and tucked him in, making him warm and comfortable.

"You're staying in bed today, you hear me?" Sam told him in a gentle voice, stroking the flushed cheek. "If you want anything, tell me and I'll get it for you straight away."

"Snow," was Dean's answer, making Sam roll his eyes. For some reason, Dean was completely obsessed about it snowing for Christmas, and every morning as soon as he woke up, he ran to the window, and climbed onto the chair Sam had placed there so he could look outside. But so far, there hadn't been a single snowflake to fall from the sky and turn the ground to a glistening white, the yard was just as grey and boring as the night before.

"I bet Santa will make it all snowy in time for Christmas," said Sam, leaning down to kiss the freckled nose, and make Dean giggle. "Tell me the next thing you want, and this time I'll get you it, no matter what it is."

"Hug," he demanded, holding his little arms up.

Sam smiled lovingly down at him, and said, "Now that I can do," before reaching down to wrap his arms around him, to give him the biggest hug he could. He enjoyed holding the sick little boy in his arms for as long as he could since Dean wasn't normally the hugging type, and lowered his head to kiss the messy blond hair.

"ATCHOOOOOO!" the little boy sneezed all over Sam's t-shirt, and sniffled miserably. "Oops. Deanie atchoo'd."

"Shh. It's alright, baby," soothed Sam, laying him back down, and carefully wiping the little red nose. "There we go, Rudolph."

Dean giggled, but the laughter didn't last long, and he started coughing, making his little body shake under the covers.

Sam frowned worriedly, and turned him slightly to rub his back gently. He just hoped Dean would recover soon, and wouldn't be sick on the one day he was really excited about. "I'm right here, I'll look after you. Shh, Sammy's got you."

When Dean finally finished coughing, he looked up at Sam with a sad expression. "Deanie cough coughed," he croaked.

"I know," whispered Sam, reaching over to grab his phone to text Bobby to ask him to go to the pharmacy to get some things to treat a cold and something for Dean's breakfast.

After sending the text, Sam dressed Dean in more layers of clothes, and sat with him in the bed. He wasn't going anywhere today, he was going to look after his sick brother.

Dean moaned, and snuggled up against his big brother's side. He looked up, blinking sleepily, and sniffling miserably, his bottom lip pouted.

Sam smiled, and wrapped the trembling little form up in his arms, and held him, making sure he stayed under the covers.

* * *

Later, Bobby came into the room with the things Sam had asked for. "Is he alright?" he whispered when he saw the sick little boy was fast asleep in Sam's arms, making little snuffly noises as he tried to breathe through his congested little nose.

"I think he's got a cold or something," Sam told him quietly, watching Dean sleep as he ran his fingers soothingly down the flushed freckled cheeks. "Has it started snowing yet?"

"No. It's raining, but still no snow."

Sam sighed, and looked down at Dean. "Snow is the only thing he's asked for on Christmas. He's gonna be devastated if it doesn't."

Bobby smiled and watched the brothers. "There's still a couple of days left, I'm sure it'll start soon."

"I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right."

* * *

***The Next Day***

* * *

That morning started the same as every morning of the past week; Dean woke up and hurried over to the window to check outside. He pouted and sighed in disappointment when he saw no snow had fallen during the night.

He moaned when he started coughing, and he raised his hands to cover his mouth, and coughed into his palms. He doubled over with the force, almost falling to the floor.

Sam frowned when he heard a little boy coughing, and woke up once again to Dean at the window. "Hey Tigger," he whispered, climbing out of bed, and kneeling beside the bent over form, rubbing Dean's back. "Any snow yet?"

Dean shook his head, still shaking with the cough that was wracking his body. His knees buckled, and he fell into Sam's arms.

Sam caught him, and held him through the harsh coughs. "Hey hey, I've got you," he whispered, trying to soothe him.

After the coughing fit was finally over, Sam lifted him up to carry him back to bed to wrap him up in the blankets from both his and Dean's beds. It looked like today was going to be another pajama day, since Dean was still so sick.

Making sure Dean was warm and comfortable, Sam reached over and picked up the cough syrup. "Hey, it's time to take some more of this," he whispered, pouring some of the pink liquid into the little medicine cup.

"Het-_ktchsh! _Huh-_hitchshooo_!" The little boy sniffled and wiped his nose, before leaning forward, and opening his mouth.

"There we go," said Sam, pouring the syrup into his mouth.

Dean swallowed, and grimaced, rubbing his face with his sleeve. "Yucky."

"I know. Come here," he said, seeing that his nose needed wiping. Reaching over for a tissue, he wiped his little red nose gently.

"Why do dat for?"

"Your nose is running," Sam told him, smiling when Dean gasped in horror, his hands flying up to his face.

Dean sighed in relief when he felt that his nose was still attached to his face. "No not wunned away."

"It means it's all snotty, my little snotty monster."

Dean giggled, and hid his face shyly. "Deanie sick."

"Well, I'm gonna make you all better soon, I promise." Sam tucked him in properly, before standing from the bed. "I'm gonna make you some breakfast, okay? Do you want pancakes shaped like cars?"

"Yes pees Sammy," the little boy croaked miserably, hugging the covers to his chin.

"Alrighty then. I'll be right back."

* * *

When Sam came back with the breakfast tray, he got back under the covers and placed the tray on his knee. "Here we are," he said, picking up the plastic SpongeBob cup, and holding it out for Dean.

"Fank you," whispered the three year old, taking the cup and having a sip of the cold juice. "Mmmm."

"Are you ready?" asked Sam, taking the cup back, and stabbing a small piece of pancake on the fork, before holding it up, and waving it around. "NEEEEEEEOOOOOW! Open up, the Winchester express is due for landing."

Dean giggled, and opened his mouth to have a bite of his breakfast. "F-Funny Sammy."

Sam grinned, and kissed his nose, before getting another piece ready. As he helped his sick little brother eat his breakfast, he had to keep wiping his little nose when it kept dripping.

When he ate as much as he could, Dean rubbed his eyes, and settled back against the pillows. "Cartoons?"

"You want to watch your cartoons? Okay, I'll ask Bobby to bring the TV upstairs for you," he said, grabbing his phone. "You're staying in bed until you're better."

Dean sniffled and moaned in misery. "Why not Santa maked it snow?"

Sam sent the text and laid beside his brother. "He might be busy right now getting his Reindeers ready to fly, but I bet he'll make it snow right before he goes to deliver all the presents. Okay?"

"Kay." Dean nodded, and threw his arms around Sam for a hug.

Sam wrapped him in his arms, and fussed with the blankets with his free hand. "How's my little Tigger doing? Do you feel better or worse?"

"Sick," was Dean's answer, big green eyes filling with tears.

"Shh. It's alright." Sam ran his fingers down the hot flushed cheek, before leaning forward and kissing the tears away. He pulled away when Bobby came into the room armed with the TV.

"Here we go," said the older man, placing it on the drawers at the other side of the room, and plugging it in. "Hey, little man. Are ya okay?" he asked, turning it on, and grabbing the remote to change the channel to Dean's shows.

Dean whimpered, and shook his head, trying to bury himself in Sam's arms.

Sam stroked the messy hair, and looked up at Bobby with a worried expression. "If he's not better after Christmas, or if he gets worse, I'm taking him to the doctors," he told him, looking down at Dean whose eyes were glued to the screen, watching SpongeBob. He frowned when he heard the snuffles as Dean tried to breathe through his nose. He reached over for some more tissue, and held it to the little nose. "Blow your nose, baby."

Dean put his tiny hands over Sam's, and with a little encouragement, blew his nose. When he finished, he snuggled against his big brother again, his head resting against Sam's chest.

A soft smile crossed Sam's face as he adjusted the covers, and made sure Dean was comfortable, before settling back to watch cartoons all day with his sick brother.

* * *

Early that afternoon, Dean started making choking noises, which made Sam panic. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting Dean up against him.

Dean had both hands over his mouth, and sick was dripping through his fingers, his little body heaving as it tried to expel more.

"Oh crap," said Sam, diving over the side of the bed to grab the bin, and hold it in-front of Dean. "Come on baby, let it out," he soothed, removing the little hands, and rubbing Dean's back gently, his other hand cupped his hot and sweaty forehead.

As soon as his hands were removed, sick began to pour out of Dean's mouth, and into the bin Sam was holding for him.

All Sam could do was watch helplessly as his brother began to cry as his body heaved uncontrollably, and threw up everything he had eaten for the past few days. "Shh. Sammy's got you. Come on," he whispered, tears filling his own eyes as he watched Dean suffer.

"S-S-Sammy," he cried through his retching as he continued throwing up even when his stomach was empty. "H-Hurts."

Taking his hand away from Dean's back, Sam started rubbing his stomach instead to see if it would help. He knew through experience that dry heaving always felt like you were trying to retch up organs, he couldn't imagine what it felt like for a tiny three year old child.

When the violent heaving finally subsided, Dean collapsed back against Sam's chest, exhausted.

"Hey, are you with me?" asked a worried Sam, stroking the flushed cheek gently. He placed the bin back on the floor, ready to be disposed of later, but right now he had Dean to look after.

Dean groaned, and nuzzled his face against Sam's chest, crying.

Sam kissed him on the forehead, before reaching over to dip some tissue in the glass of water, to wipe over Dean's face to try and cool him down. "It's alright baby, it's over. Shh. You're okay."

"S'my," moaned the sick little boy, face leaning into the hand that was on his face.

"Shh. I'm right here," soothed Sam, wiping the little face gently. He smiled when he saw the glazed green orbs looking up at him, shining with tears.

Dean tried to smile back, but the tiny nose scrunched up, and he sneezed over Sam's shirt. "Deanie atchoo'd again."

Sam grabbed a new tissue, and wiped his nose and the tears that were making their way down the freckled cheeks. "I know, but I'll be here to look after you until you're better."

Dean sniffled, and laid back down in Sam's arms, shifting around until he was comfortable. "Hug," he demanded again, holding his arms out.

Sam threw the tissue away, and wrapped him up in his arms. The one thing he liked about Dean being sick was that he kept asking for hugs to make him better, and Sam was always willing to give them to him.

"There you go. Do you feel any better yet?"

Dean stuck his bottom lip out almost comically and shook his head. "No Sammy."

"Oh no. Looks like I've got to let the tickle monster loose," he said threateningly, holding his hand up in the 'scary' shape.

As Sam tickled him gently, Dean started squealing and giggling as he tried to get away from the tickling fingers.

"Are you any better yet?" When Dean shook his head again, Sam sighed, and looked around for something that might cheer him up. "How about a story?"

"Yes pees," croaked Dean, rubbing his eyes.

"Alrighty then," said Sam, grabbing a book, and settling back with his sick brother, before opening to the first page. "In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and, pop! Out of the egg came a tiny and very hungry caterpillar..."

A tiny smile crossed Dean's little face as he listened to his favourite story, laying in the crook of Sam's arm with his teddy bear in his arms.

**TBC**

**Hope you like**


	11. A wish for a white Christmas P2

**Chapter two**

**Will Dean get the white Christmas he really wants?  
**

On Christmas eve, Dean rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stumbled over to the window. Standing on the chair, he pulled the curtain back and saw the yard was still the same.

"Oh no," he cried, tears filling his eyes, and falling down his flushed cheeks. He started shivering violently, and climbed up into Sam's bed, sobbing.

Feeling two little arms wrap around him, Sam's eyes fluttered open, and he looked down to see the blond hair. "Good morning," he whispered, frowning when he heard Dean crying. "Hey."

Dean's breathing hitched and hiccuped as he cried his eyes out against Sam's chest.

"What's wrong?" asked a worried Sam. "Are you alright?"

"Not s-s-snowed," Dean managed through his tears. As he cried, he felt a familiar sensation building up in his chest and he started coughing.

"I've got you, Sammy's got you," whispered Sam, sitting up with Dean held to his chest, so he could rub the little back soothingly.

Dean coughed and choked, his little fists clinging onto Sam's shirt as he hacked his lungs out.

When the coughing fit finally ended, Sam got the cough syrup, and poured some for him. "Open up," he said, before helping him take it. When he swallowed that, Sam got out the children's cold/flu medicine that Bobby had bought a couple of days before. "This too."

After taking that, Dean was thirsty, so Sam helped him have a drink of water from the glass on the bedside table. "There. Does that feel better?"

Dean shrugged, and snuggled against Sam, moaning in misery.

"I know you feel like crap, baby. But you'll be better soon, I promise."

Bobby knocked on the door quietly, and came into the room. "I could hear him coughing from my room, is he okay?"

"Not really," Sam told him, not looking away from the sick child in his arms.

Bobby sighed, and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. "No snow yet, it's still raining cats and dogs."

That got Dean's attention. "Weally?" he asked, looking over at the window. He frowned, a disappointed expression crossing his face when he saw no dogs or cats falling past the window. "Awwwww."

Sam laughed, and kissed his cheek. "He doesn't mean literally, you big silly."

Dean sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists, sleepily. He hadn't had much sleep the night before, he kept waking up coughing and crying when his chest and throat hurt too much.

"Why don't you get some more rest, okay? I bet a little sleep will help you feel a bit better," suggested Sam, covering Dean up properly in the covers, before he started singing. "His name is Dean, and his eyes are green. His smile was brighter than I've ever seen," he sang, gently rocking Dean from side to side. "When he looked up at me with that grin, I knew I would do anything for him..."

Dean smiled, and looked up at Sam through half-lidded eyes as he relaxed in his arms. When his eyelids fluttered closed, he felt Sam kiss his freckles.

"Sweet dreams," Sam whispered, kissing his forehead gently. While Dean slept, Sam got the wet tissue again, to try and get his temperature down.

Bobby watched the brothers with a smile on his face, his heart warming in his chest when he saw the loving expression on Sam's face as he looked after his brother.

"What are we gonna do about tomorrow?" asked Sam, looking over at the window.

"Well, I guess he'll have to go without, because it doesn't look as if it's gonna snow anytime soon."

"I don't care. If Dean wants snow, he's gonna get snow, even if I have to do a naked snow dance out in the yard."

"Do that, and I'll be getting the shotgun out."

Sam's eyes went wide when he suddenly had an idea. "Snow making machine!" he suddenly exclaimed, making Dean flinch in his sleep. "Oops. Sorry, Tigger."

Bobby raised his eyebrows, and stared at him. "What are ya going on about?"

"Do you know anybody who has a huge snow machine we can borrow?"

"Why?"

"So we can give Dean the white Christmas he wants," Sam told him quietly. "He deserves to have a real Christmas. He never really had one after mom died, and he's sure gonna get one this year even if I have to do it myself."

"Sam, even if we can get one, he's too sick to go out in it... and we've already bought him half the toys at the mall for Christmas, isn't that enough?"

"No. I want him to have the best Christmas in the world, and snow is the one thing he wants... the one thing he's obviously not gonna get if we leave it to the weather. Do you know anybody, or not?"

Bobby sighed, he knew by the stubborn look on Sam's face that he wasn't going to change his mind. If Bobby couldn't get one, he knew Sam would try and make one himself. "I'll call around. If nobody has one, I'll hire one."

"Try and get one of those where you can set it so it looks like it's really snowing. We can attach it to the roof so the first thing he'll see is the snow falling."

"Anything else ya want?" asked Bobby, raising his eyebrows.

Sam shook his head, a big smile lighting up his face. "I can't wait to see his face in the morning."

"Me neither. I'll let ya know when I've got it sorted."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Don't mention it, kid."

When Bobby left, Sam was grinning happily at the thought of being able to give his little brother the white Christmas he so desperately wanted.

* * *

***Christmas Morning***

* * *

Sam was the one to get up early this morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, he ran over to the window to see if the machine had worked.

Opening the curtains, he laughed in delight when he saw the snowflakes falling past the window, and the whole yard was covered in white 'snow', even the Impala was white. Looking around, he saw theirs was the only yard that was snowy, and that made him glad he had the idea of the snow making machine, instead of relying on the stupid weather.

Going back to sit on the edge of the bed, Sam watched his brother sleeping for a few minutes, before he gently shook him awake. "Hey baby, wake up. I've got a big surprise for you."

Dean moaned, and opened his eyes. Blinking sleepily up at his big brother, he saw that he had a huge grin on his face. "W-What Sammy?" he croaked.

"It looks like Santa made your wish come true," he whispered, still grinning like a lunatic. "Come and have a look outside."

Dean lifted his arms up to Sam, who scooped him up and carried him over to the window. He gasped, his green eyes going wide, his little face lighting up into the biggest smile when he saw it was snowing and the yard was completely covered in white snow.

"Wow. Santa come, Sammy. Santa make it snow," he said, bouncing in Sam's arms with excitement. "Snow, Sammy. Snow."

Sam laughed and kissed the flushed, warm cheek. "I know." Even though Dean was too sick to go out in the freezing weather, it was worth the money they spent just to see the happy joyful smile on his face.

After ten minutes of standing at the window watching the snow, Sam got a bit bored. "Hey, how about we go see if Santa has brought you some presents too?"

Dean didn't hear him, he seemed mesmerized by the snow falling outside.

"De-ean," said Sam, bouncing the little boy gently. "Are you ready for some presents?"

The little boy finally blinked and turned his head to face Sam. "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes fondly. "Presents?"

Dean turned back to the window, but nodded. "Kay."

"Come on then." Sam grabbed some tissues and the blankets from Dean's bed, and wrapped his sick brother up, before carrying him downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, he almost dropped Dean when a sudden sneezing fit caught him by surprise. "Whoa."

To make sure he didn't drop him, Sam sat on one of the steps, and waited for the sneezing fit to pass.

"Huh-_hitchsh_-uh! Hetch_SHUHooooo_! _Ish_choo! Huhh…_PTSHCH!_ KTSHSH_chuh_! Aaaaaaatchoooooooo!" When he finally finished, Dean looked up at Sam, and sniffled. "Deanie woads atchoo'd."

Sam smiled, and wiped his face, before kissing the little red nose gently. "There you go, sneezy," he said, standing up. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Sam froze when he saw that there was 'snow' all over the living room, huge fake snowflakes hanging from the ceiling with the other decorations, and a snowman standing beside the tree.

"WOW!" yelled Dean with huge green eyes.

"Er... What happened?" he asked Bobby, who came in from the kitchen after washing his hands.

"Santa got a bit carried away with the snow," Bobby told him with a grin. "Ya wanted him to have a real white Christmas... so he's got one."

"Yeah. But since when does it snow in the house?"

"Since a special little boy was too sick to play out in this weather, so Santa thought he'd give him one more present."

Dean wasn't taking any notice of the two men, he was looking around the room with an amazed expression on his little face. If a smile could really light up a room, then the happy, delighted grin on Dean's face would have been enough to light up a block of houses.

The two men watched him with smiles of their own. "Did you use the machine?" Sam whispered quietly, so Dean didn't hear him.

"I did outside in the front yard and the back before fixing it to the roof, and I used real fake snow for in here. It looks just like the real thing, doesn't it?"

"It's amazing," whispered Sam, going to sit on the floor with Dean on his knee.

Dean clapped and giggled in delight as he put both hands in the snow and threw it in the air. "YAY!"

Bobby chuckled and got some presents from under the tree, and brought them over to the brothers. "There ya go, little man."

Dean gasped in surprise, he had actually forgotten about presents in the excitement of having snow in the house. With the help of his brother, he ripped the paper off, and cheered when he saw the remote control dinosaur. "Oooooh," he squealed, asking Sam to open it, which he did.

Taking the dinosaur out, Sam showed Dean how to play with it, and made it growl, and walk through the snow and across the room.

After Dean was finished with the dinosaur, Sam held out another present. "Here baby."

When Dean took the present, he started coughing unexpectedly, and dropped it back onto the floor, doubling over.

"Hey whoa," said a surprised Sam, supporting him and rubbing his back through the coughs.

Bobby got up, and walked into the kitchen to get him a drink of water. When he came back in, he knelt beside the brothers, and held it until Dean stopped coughing. "There ya go."

Sam took the glass, and held it to Dean's lips to help him take a drink. "Have a drink."

Dean fell back against Sam's chest, and placed his little hands over Sam's big ones, and had a drink of the cold water to help soothe his sore throat. He had a few sips, before turning his face away.

"Is that better?" asked Sam, giving the water back to Bobby, and adjusting the covers around Dean's shivering body. He got out some tissue, and wiped Dean's nose gently.

"Yeah," whispered Dean, picking the present back up, and ripping the paper off with Sam's help.

This one was a huge box of Lego that Dean saw on the TV. He also got some Batman and Woody costume pajamas, jumpers and jeans, and loads of other toys.

Bobby watched the tiny Winchester open his presents with his big brother, smiling whenever Dean smiled or giggled in delight.

While Sam helped his brother, he kept a close eye on him to make sure he was alright. But even though he sneezed and coughed a few times, he didn't seem to be able to stop smiling.

After the last present was opened, Dean reached forward, and grabbed two handfuls of snow, and threw them across the room. He squealed and clapped in excitement, and got two more handfuls.

Sam kept his arms around him and held him on his knee, laughing along with his sick, but happy brother as he threw the snow around the room.

Bobby got a handful of snow, and threw it at an unsuspecting Sam.

"Hey," said Sam, grabbing a snowball, and throwing it back.

Dean giggled, and got up to pick up more snow to throw at his big brother and uncle, who laughed, and retaliated.

A snowball fight broke out in the middle of Bobby's living room, until Dean started coughing violently and went to lay down in Sam's arms.

* * *

Later, Sam was sitting in the middle of the snowy room with a sleeping Dean cradled in his arms, snuggled up to his chest, the blankets wrapped around him. He smiled as he watched him sleep, the little snuffly noises he made were just so cute.

"Dinner will be ready soon," announced Bobby, coming into the room, drying his hands. "How's he doing?"

"Resting," Sam told him, not taking his eyes away from the little bundle in his arms. He placed his hand gently on the flushed cheek and felt he was burning up again.

"Bobby, can you get Dean's stuff from upstairs?"

Bobby nodded, and walked out of the room to get the things Sam had asked for. He came back two minutes later, and knelt beside the two Winchesters. "Here."

Sam took them, and placed them on the floor, ready for when Dean woke up.

* * *

An hour later, Dean woke up, and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Hiya."

"Hey baby. How are you feeling?" Sam asked him, reaching over for the cold/flu medicine, and cough syrup. After helping him take it, Sam sat Dean up in his arms, so he could look around the room to see the snow.

"Hug," he demanded, his little arms going around Sam.

Sam smiled, and hugged him back. "There you go."

Wriggling out of Sam's arms, Dean crawled over near the tree, and started trying to build another snowman beside the big one Bobby had built.

Sam got up with the blankets, and joined his brother. "Here, we need you to stay warm," he whispered, wrapping the blankets around him. When he made sure Dean was alright, he grabbed some snow, and helped him build a little snowman in Bobby's living room.

"Huh-_ETSHCHSH_! _hitchshooooo_!" Dean sniffled and wiped his nose on his pajama sleeve, before getting another handful of snow.

Sam stopped what he was doing, and wiped the little nose with the tissue. "If it needs wiping, let me do it," he said, placing his hand on Dean's cheek to make sure his temperature wasn't going up again.

Bobby stood at the kitchen/living room door with his arms folded and a smile on his face as he watched Sam fuss over his little brother as they built a little man made of snow.

Dean grinned cheekily, and threw a small snowball in Sam's face.

"You little monkey," laughed Sam, putting his arms around him, and having a quick hug, before he continued to build.

After they built the snowman, Sam sat Dean back on his knee, and held him so his little back was to his chest. "Love you, little brother," he whispered in Dean's ear. "Get better soon, okay? I miss my little Tigger jumping around the house."

Dean turned his head up to smile at Sam. "Woves you, Sammy," he said, before turning back to play in the snow.

Sam watched him, the smile never once fading from his face. He adjusted the blanket, so it stayed around the little boy, before stroking his flushed cheek gently.

Dean grinned up at his brother, before grabbing one of his toys, and making it walk through the snow.

When Bobby turned the TV on, and there were Christmas songs playing on the music channel, Sam got up with Dean in his arms and started dancing with him around the room.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know. Where the treetops glisten and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow," sang Sam, rocking from side to side with Dean, making him giggle happily.

Bobby grabbed some snow, and threw it over the brothers so it looked like it was snowing over them.

"YAY!" yelled Dean, bouncing in Sam's arms, trying to catch the snow as it fell around them. "YAAAAY! SNOW!"

Sam laughed, and continued singing and dancing with his sick little brother.

"_Hitchshoooooo!"_ Dean sniffled and wrapped his little arms and legs around Sam, before laying his head on Sam's shoulder as he rocked and danced him around their snowy room while he sang along with the Christmas songs on the TV.

As the brothers spent the rest of the afternoon playing together, and making snow angels, Sam couldn't help but think that this was the best Christmas he ever had. He had a chance to be a dad, they made their own white Christmas, and even though Dean was sick, he was happy, and that was enough for Sam.

***The end***

**Hope you like  
BTW, since a few ppl have messaged me about the lullaby in this one sounding familiar, it's in the tune of objects in the rearview mirror by Meat loaf.  
**


	12. Mousetraps & boo-boos

**Mousetraps and boo-boos.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wouldn't mind keeping Dean.  
I know i said i wasn't going to write any more de-aged!Dean one-shots, but i randomly got the idea for this one after my sister lent me a mousetrap.  
**

**Little Dean has a nice happy day, until he has an accident with a mousetrap.**

Sam woke up with a big smile on his face, and turned his head to the race car bed at the other side of the room to see Dean was already awake, and scribbling a picture in his new colouring book.

It had been a month since his brother had been turned into an adorable little three year old, and Sam loved looking after his brother and being a dad to the tiny boy.

"Hey little man. What are you colouring?" he asked, getting up to sit on the child's bed. He reached over and ran his fingers through the messy blond hair which was the same length as his own.

Dean grinned up at his big brother, and pointed at the picture. "Deanie cuwor cwown."

"Wow. That's the best clown picture I have ever seen," Sam told him, trying not to flinch at the clown's face peering up at him.

The little boy scrunched his shoulders up and giggled. "Sammy face happy now? It spotties."

"What are you talking about? I haven't got spots."

"Deanie gives dem back," Dean told him, holding one of his markers up.

Sam shot up from the bed and ran into the bathroom to check his face in the mirror. He gasped and his eyes went wide when he saw blue, purple, pink and green dots covering his face, making it look as though he had caught some kind of cartoon disease. "DEAN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" he yelled to his brother, who came running into the bathroom with his bottom lip poking out and his eyes big and round, hugging his fluffy teddy bear to his chest, looking so adorable it was impossible for Sam to be mad at him. "What did you do this for?"

"Deanie gives spotties back wike my spotties," he told him, pointing at his own freckled face. "Sammy spotties wanned away... Deanie makes dem not."

Sam's expression softened and his heart melted. "Dean, I don't have freckles."

"I knows. Dat why I gives dem back," Dean tried to explain with all the innocence of a three year old. "I not sad and has spotties. You sad... and not has spotties. Deanie makes dem come back... den Sammy not sad no more."

"Come here you," laughed Sam, kneeling down with his arms held out. When the little boy ran over, he lifted him into his arms and kissed the toddler on the forehead. "Could you be more adorable?"

"Sammy not sad? YAAAAAAAAAY!" Dean giggled in delight, and threw his little arms around Sam's neck.

"I'll never be sad as long as I have you."

"Deanie woves Sammy."

"Sammy loves Deanie."

* * *

When the two Winchesters made it downstairs, Bobby turned around to greet them and his eyes went wide when he saw Sam. "What the hell happened to yer face?"

"Dean. Apparently my freckles ran away, so Dean decided to give them back."

"But ya don't have freckles, Sam," Bobby told him, a little lost at why Sam was sitting in his kitchen with multicoloured dots all over his face.

"I know, but try explaining that to Dean. According to him my face was sad yesterday because my freckles ran away, so he gave them back to make me happy again. He seems to think that since he's always happy and has freckles, that I must have them too... but they ran away and made me sad."

Bobby chuckled, and smiled down at the tiny Winchester. "Ya did a good job there. Want some milk to go with yer pancakes?"

"Yes pees, uncy Bow-bee," the little boy answered while Sam got him settled into his special chair at the table. He smiled happily up at the older man when he placed his SpongeBob cup of milk in-front of him on the table.

"What are we doing today?" asked Bobby, placing the plates of breakfast on the table.

"Dean's probably got his schedule full with watching cartoons and playing with his toys," Sam told him, smiling down at his brother.

Dean giggled as he shared his pancake with Chevy pie- his teddy bear who he named after two of his favourite things. "Yeah. Spoonbob Airpants, and Tomuss, and Bob da booder and Firemister Sammy."

"What do you want to be when you get big?"

"Me," Dean answered as if it was obvious.

"Of course you're still going to be you when you grow up, but I mean what job do you want to do?"

Dean bit his lip, and furrowed his eyebrows in an adorable way as he thought of what he wanted to do when he grew up. "Um... Guwaff."

Sam blinked and stared at his brother. "A Giraffe? Why?"

"Dey weally weally big, Sammy. And... um... Impy... and den fishy."

It was Bobby's turn to stare at Dean as he tried to hide his smile. "Ya wanna be a giraffe, the Impala, and then a fish?"

"Yeah. I be weally big... den I dwives, and den go swim. And Sheffy pie be biiiiiiig bear dat talk to Deanie."

Sam laughed, and ruffled Dean's hair. "I bet you'll be the best in the whole world."

* * *

After lunch, Sam decided to take Dean shopping to get him some toys and clothes as a treat, so after getting him dressed, he told Dean to go find his boots while he finished getting ready upstairs.

Searching the hallway and living room, Dean managed to find one boot, but he couldn't find the other one. "Sheffy pie where Deanie shoe?" he asked his bear, who of course didn't answer him. "Oh no."

Dean remembered Sam spending the whole afternoon a few days ago teaching him how to dial 911 if he ever needed help, so he grabbed Sam's phone, and carefully dialled the numbers that his brother had taught him, and waited until someone answered. "Um… I wost my shoe."

"You lost your shoe? How old are you sweetie?"

"I Deanie, I twee. I gots gween eyes and spotties, and gots yewwow hair. I wike pie and ice ceem. Deanie sad. I wost my shoe."

The operator smiled, already in love with the tiny Winchester. She didn't have the heart to tell him that 911 was for real emergencies, but losing a shoe probably was an emergency to a child. "Where did you last have your shoe?"

"On feet," he said, making her laugh.

"Where did you take it off your feet?"

"Deanie see tarcoons. Bawney da dinysore sing and Deanie sing awell. Sammy say shoe off and I did. Den firemister Sammy go woo woo woo and hewp fire… My budder Sammy awell. He wights biiiiiiiiiig feet and biiiiiiiiig hair and when happy he got howes in face. Deanie woves Sammy."

"Where's your brother now?" she asked, smiling in amusement.

"Gets dwessed. He sad so Deanie gives him spotties to make happy. I gots car name Sheffy Impy. Impy bwack and pwetty and we's go wide. Sammy say I good and buy fingys fwom shoppy fingy. And my uncy Bow-bee make car not sad no more and he gwumpy."

"Have you checked under the couch, sweetie? That's where I always lose my shoes."

"Deanie wook." Dean put the phone down and knelt down to look under the couch, and his face lit up when he saw his little boot. He grabbed it and took the phone again. "I gots it. Fank you pwetty wady."

"You're welcome sweetie. Goodbye now."

"Bye bye." When Dean put the phone down, he looked up to see Sam coming into the room.

"Dean, who did you call?"

"Um… I wost my shoe and I hewp. You say fone when has hewp."

"Who did you call?" he repeated, picking up his phone to check the last dialled number. "911? What did you call the police for?"

"I wost shoe, Sammy."

"Dean, you don't call the police because you lost your shoe."

"Deanie sowwy, Sammy," he pouted, looking up at Sam with his big round puppy dog eyes.

"It's alright. Don't do it again. Let's get these boots on so we can go out."

* * *

After spending a few hours shopping, the brothers were walking in the park, hand in hand as they ate their ice cream. Dean was giggling and skipping along, rambling about whatever happened in his cartoons that morning. He came to a stop when they came across a young woman sitting on a bench and rubbing her stomach while she spoke in a soft voice.

Dean looked around in confusion. "Who you talk to?"

"I'm talking to my baby, sweetheart."

"What baby?" asked Dean, managing to look even more confused.

"He's in here," she told him, patting her baby bump gently.

Dean gasped, his green eyes widening in horror. "You eats him? SAMMY! SHE EAT BABY!"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best not to laugh. "Dean, she didn't eat the baby."

"How baby in dere?" he asked, climbing up onto the bench to look at her more closely as if she was hiding the baby.

"Er..." Sam and the young woman blushed and looked at each other, silently asking what they were going to tell him.

After several minutes of awkward silence, the young woman answered, saving Sam from embarrassment. "The baby's daddy gave me a special seed and told me to swallow it, so it could grow inside me, because that's where mommies keep the baby until its ready to be born. It's like when you plant a seed until it grows up into a flower. But instead of putting it in the ground, we keep them safe in here until he's big enough to come out and I can look after him."

Dean nodded, and held out his ice cream. "Baby has ice ceem?"

"He doesn't eat ice cream yet, sweetheart," she told him with a smile, which got bigger when she felt the familiar movement at the side of her stomach. "Do you want to feel him say hello?"

When Dean nodded, she carefully took his hand and placed it on her stomach, and the two waited for it to happen again. He was beginning to get bored when he felt the thump against his palm, making him gasp and snatch his hand back as if it had been burned. "What dat?"

"It's my baby kicking."

"Sammy, baby kick me," said Dean with a sad expression, pointing at where the unborn baby was.

"It's the baby's way of saying hello because he can't speak yet. He only says hello to people he really likes, so you must be a really special little boy."

A delighted grin crossed Dean's face, and he reached over to place his hand on her stomach again. "Hiya baby. I Deanie." He kept his hand there for a few seconds, and was rewarded with the thump again, making him squeal in excitement. "Baby do again."

"I'm sorry about this. I'm Sam, this is my brother, Dean."

"It's alright. He's a little sweetheart. I'm Leah. It's nice to meet you both." Sam and Leah smiled at each other as the cute little boy made friends with a baby that hadn't been born yet.

"...I gots gween eyes and spotties on face. Deanie gots pwetty car dat Impy she go bwum bwum. I woves my teddy he Sheffy pie wike my Impy and pie. I woves dem. My's uncy name Bow-bee, he gots hat and haiwy face... wike bear," said Dean, giggling when the baby kicked again. "Yay."

"Is he always this talkative?"

"Yeah. He never seems to stop talking or smiling. He even talks in his sleep, the other night he was having a random conversation with a unicorn called Rupert. Well, he kept saying Oonacown, which sounds like unicorn to me, so..." Sam broke off with a blush covering his cheeks, but Leah just laughed.

"...Den Batman wans wif Wobin and go Batmobeew to go bwum bwum. SpoonBob Airpants funny, dis gween mistuh aways want mistuh Kwab buwger fingy and he nasty. Spoonbob twy make fends so he not big meanie and sing song," said Dean, before taking his hands away to start clapping and singing. "Fuh is fends do fings gever. Oooo is you and me. Nuh is um... Sammy what nuh?"

"N is for anywhere, and any time at all."

"Yeah. Dat. Down in da bwue sea. YAAAAAAY!" Dean cheered, placing his hands back over the bump. "Mistuh Cwab wikes money and Spoonbob bestest fend Patwick. Ooh ooh. Tomuss. Deanie wikes pussy..."

Leah raised her eyebrows and turned to look at Sam. "What did he say?"

"Percy. He likes Percy from Thomas."

"Okay then," she laughed, turning back to listen to Dean talking about his favourite cartoon characters. The one-sided conversation lasted ten minutes, and then he started talking about something else.

"Sammy buyed me wobot and chabanas to go bed. We go wide in awigaytor..."

"Dean, it's an elevator, not an alligator."

"Dat what Deanie say," said Dean, turning to look at Sam, before going back to talk some more. "Dat Sammy. He gots biiiiiiig hair and howes in face. He gots pooter dat he pway and wet me see vibeos on it."

"I haven't got holes in my face, they're dimples. Come on, have you finished your conversation yet? We need to go home... and I think Leah would like to go home too. I'm sorry we've kept you so long."

"It's fine. I've enjoyed spending my time with him, he's really entertaining."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I don't even have to watch TV with Dean around, he'll keep me entertained all day," he said, before turning to Dean. "Say goodbye to Leah and her baby."

"Bye bye baby." Dean leaned over to kiss the bump, and stood up on the bench to kiss the young woman's cheek. "Bye bye pwetty Weah."

"Bye sweetheart."

Dean giggled and jumped up into Sam's arms when he came closer to the bench, he threw his little arms around his neck and waved over Sam's shoulder as they walked away. "BYE BYE!"

* * *

At dinnertime Dean ran into the kitchen, and skidded to a stop when he saw his big brother cutting something up with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh no," Dean exclaimed, dropping his teddy on the floor, and running over to hug Sam's legs. "What Sammy cwy?"

"Nothing little man. I'm cutting onions, they always do this."

Dean was scowling as he grabbed a chair to push against the counter. When he could reach, he picked up the onions in his hands and carefully climbed back off the chair.

Sam put the knife down, and watched Dean kidnap the onions. "What are you doing?"

Running over to the bin, Dean threw them away. "Dey makes you cwy Sammy. Dey nasty big meanies."

"You threw the onions away because they made me cry?" When Dean nodded, Sam knelt in-front of his brother. "Dean, I wasn't crying, they just make my eyes water."

"What dat mean? Dey puts water in eyes?"

Sam laughed, and wiped the tears. "No, it means they... er... when you cut them, they make your eyes hurt, so your eyes make tears to protect them from hurting."

"B-But dey nasty, Sammy. It nasty when make sad."

"I'll never cut onions again, okay?" said Sam, kissing his nose. "Go play with uncle Bobby while I finish the dinner."

"Owtay." Dean turned back to go in the room when something in the corner caught his eye and he walked over to it without Sam noticing. He frowned in confusion, wondering why there was some food on a weird piece of wood, and reached over to pick the food up to put in the bin.

**_SNAP_! **

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sam jumped in shock at the sudden high-pitched scream and dropped the plates he was holding as he span around to see Dean sitting on the floor, holding his hand to his chest, screaming and crying his eyes out. "DEAN!"

Bobby came running into the kitchen after hearing the horrifying scream. "What happened?" he asked Sam, who was kneeling on the floor, cradling a wailing Dean in his arms, trying to sooth him.

"It's alright baby. Shh. Let me have a look." Sam very carefully moved Dean's hand to have a look, and gasped in horror when he saw two fingers were caught in the powerful mousetrap. "Oh my god."

"Crap. Sam, I've gotta get his fingers out, make sure he doesn't watch," whispered Bobby, nodding to Sam to hide Dean's face against his chest and try to comfort him while he carefully released his fingers.

When Bobby removed Dean's injured fingers, the little boy screamed again. Bobby threw the mousetrap in the bin with a disgusted look on his face, before running over to the fridge to grab a few cubes of ice, and a clean tea-towel to wrap it up in. He had trapped his own finger when he was setting the trap up and it hurt like hell and he couldn't imagine the damage and pain it would cause to the three years olds tiny fragile little fingers. "Here," he said, running back over to give to Sam, who was trying to calm the still screaming Dean down.

"Thanks. Come on baby, here we go," said Sam in a soothing voice as he gently wrapped his fingers up. "Bobby go out and start the car, we've got to get him checked at the hospital."

"I'm on it." Bobby ran his fingers through Dean's hair comfortingly before he got up and ran into the room to find the keys to the Impala.

"Deanie g-gots boo-boo," Dean cried through his sobs, hiding his little red face against Sam's chest, his other hand gripping onto his big brother's shirt like a drowning man would grip onto a life preserver.

"I know. We're taking you to get it looked at," soothed Sam, quickly standing up to turn the oven off, before running into the living room with Dean cradled in his arms. To make sure he didn't get cold, he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, and wrapped Dean up, being careful to keep his injured hand elevated. "Let's go," he said, and ran out of the house, not bothering to turn the TV or light off. His brother was more important than everything else right now.

Bobby had already started the car and was waiting for them when Sam came running out of the house. He opened the front door, and sat down in the passenger seat with a distraught Dean in his arms. Usually when they went out, Sam secured Dean in his car seat and sat with him in the back, but this wasn't like any normal car ride.

"Boo-boo ouchie," he hiccuped through his tears, which were streaming down his little freckled face as Bobby drove them out of the yard and to the hospital. "Sammy ki-kiss boo-boo."

Sam smiled, and took the towel away for a second to gently press his lips against the injured fingers. "There we go. All better."

Dean shook his head, his bottom lip trembling as he burst into fresh tears, the loud wails echoing through the car, letting his pain and misery be known to those who loved him.

"It's alright buddy. I'm gonna get ya to the hospital soon, they'll make ya better."

"U-Uncy Bow-bee, gots boo-boo," he repeated, turning to look up at his uncle in the seat beside him with his big beautiful green eyes, which shined with his tears. "Kiss boo-boo."

"I can't, I'm driving," he told the injured child, who laid his head against Sam's chest and continued crying his little heart out. Instead of kissing his injured fingers, Bobby reached over and stroked his fingers gently down Dean's cheek with his free hand. "Shh. It's alright."

Sam could feel Dean's heart racing fast and frantic as the wings of a dying bird against his own chest. To try and calm him down, Sam began running his fingers through the soft hair and down his bright red cheek, whispering soothing and loving words to him throughout the whole trip to the hospital.

* * *

An hour later, the three of them were still waiting to be seen by a doctor. Dean's screams and cries of agony broke the hearts of everybody there until a nurse had come out to give him some painkillers to help him with his pain as he waited to be seen by a doctor.

Sam was hugging Dean close to him, stroking his hair and kissing his little face as the sobs wracked his tiny body. He was trying to help him through his pain by humming and singing Metallica songs to him in a soft voice until a doctor walked out, calling Dean's name. "Finally."

Sam stood up with his injured brother cradled in his arms, and carried him over to where the doctor was leading them. When the curtain was drawn, the young woman sat down in-front of them. "So this is Dean?"

"Yeah. He's hurt his fingers." Sam carefully unwrapped Dean's fingers, and gasped when he saw they were swollen to twice their normal size and bruised. "Oh my god."

"How did this happen honey?" she asked, very gently taking the small hand.

Dean's breathing hitched and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I-I sees food on fwoor and put bin and it bites me."

"The food bit you?"

"No. Fingy it on bites me. Deanie not knows why," he sobbed, getting upset again.

"It was on a mousetrap," Bobby explained, still feeling guilty over the accident. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have left the damn thing where he could see it."

"It's both our faults. We should've taught him about the dangers of mousetraps, since he's never seen one before."

"Alright. I'll try not to hurt you, okay honey?" As carefully as she could, the doctor examined Dean's fingers, but the little boy still gasped and cried out in pain. "Can you move them?"

Dean sniffled, and tried to move his fingers like the doctor told him to, but the pain got even worse, and he only managed to move them slightly. "OUCHIIIIIIIIIE!" he wailed, cuddling up to Sam again. "Boo-boo ouchie, Sammy."

"Shh. I know baby. You're going to be okay, I promise. Shh. Sammy's got you."

"I think we better get that x-rayed to see whether it's broken or not."

"B-B-Bwoked?" the little boy hiccuped, turning to look at the doctor. "You puts gwoo on it? Wike Sammy when aiwpwane bwoked?"

"No," said the doctor with a smile. "You don't glue broken bones, you only do that with toys. If it is broken, I'll put a special dressing on it that'll help make it better."

Dean sniffled again, and tried to smile back at her through his pain.

* * *

When the little boy was called in to get his x-ray, Sam stood up and carried him into the small room. Dean was scared and whimpering in fear and pain, as he clung onto Sam throughout the whole thing.

Sam sat with him, holding onto his good hand, as he sang to calm him down. "The world may change as life passes through, but nothing will change my love for you. If you look up into the sky and counted every star, that's how loved by me you are." He wiped Dean's tears with his thumb, and leaned down to kiss his wet cheeks, smiling when he saw Dean looking up at him. "If my love for you could light up a room, that light would shine forever. I love you more with each passing day, and that will change never..."

After the x-ray was over, the little family waited until they were called back in to see the doctor so she could tell them whether Dean had broken any bones.

"How are you feeling baby?" asked Sam, gently placing a kiss to Dean's fingers, before kissing his forehead. He looked at Bobby worriedly when Dean didn't answer, he just shrugged and hid his little face against Sam once again. "Shh. It's alright."

The doctor called them back, and confirmed that both of Dean's fingers were broken. Dean didn't seem to hear them, he was busy staring up at his x-ray with a fascinated expression.

"Deanie bone, Sammy. Uncy Bow-bee... Deanie bone. Wook."

"Is it yer bones? Wow. How many fingers have ya got?"

"Wun. Choo. Twee. Far. Fife." He looked up at Sam to see if he had it right. "Fife?"

"Yeah. That's right. Good boy," Sam praised with a proud smile. He had to hold onto Dean tightly when he started struggling as soon as he saw the doctor come closer with some items in her hands. "It's alright baby. She's going to help your fingers."

"Noooooo. Deanie scared," Dean cried through his fresh tears.

"Hey hey, look at me," said Sam, waiting until Dean did before pulling a funny face, crossing his eyes, and sticking out his tongue.

Dean started giggling, his little nose scrunching up adorably. "Funny."

Sam grinned when he finally made Dean laugh, and pulled another funny face while he gestured for the doctor to come closer.

Dean was so busy giggling at Sam and his silly expressions, he didn't seem to notice anything going on around him. By the time he turned around, his fingers had been splinted and his whole hand wrapped up in a bandage to keep both fingers still.

He blinked in confusion and looked up at Sam. "Sammy what do?"

"It's to help your fingers get better. You can't move them because it'll make them hurt again, so you have to keep this on for awhile."

The doctor smiled, and walked back over with some child's pain medication and a sling. "We've got your painkillers here for when it hurts again, and I'll need to keep your arm in this for a day or two," she said, holding up the sling. "We don't usually use slings for broken fingers, but since he's a child who has broken the two main fingers of his dominant hand, it'll be better and less painful if his hand is immobile so he's not tempted to use it."

After getting a nod from Sam, she carefully helped the little boy elevate his hand in the sling and tied it around his neck. "There we are. All nice and better. Oh wait. What's this?"

Dean looked up at her with a worried expression, but the worried look melted away and a grin lit up his face when she produced a lollipop from her pocket. "Deanie wowwipop?"

"Of course it is. All my very brave patients get a prize, and you were very brave."

"Fank you," said Dean with a giggle.

"Come on, let's get you home so we can have some Sammy snuggles, huh?"

"Yeah. Sammy nuggy," Dean agreed, lowering his head to Sam's shoulder.

* * *

When the little family arrived back at Bobby's, Sam immediately carried Dean over to the couch and laid him down, making sure he stayed covered in the blanket. He took his jacket off, and carefully laid it under Dean's head like a pillow, and knelt in-front of the couch.

"How's my brave little soldier feeling?" he asked, stroking his fingers through Dean's soft hair.

"Boo-boo ouchie. Sammy nuggy." Dean held his arm out so Sam leaned over to give him a special 'Sammy snuggle'. When they pulled away, Dean looked up at Sam with huge sad eyes and pouted lips. "Deanie need kooky make better."

"You need a cookie to make you better? I guess I better get you one then." After kissing Dean's forehead, Sam stood up and walked into the kitchen to get Dean what he asked for, and picked up the teddy that Dean had dropped earlier. A few minutes later, Sam came in with three cookies, a cup of milk and Chevy pie.

"Lets sit you up," said Sam, placing the milk and cookies on the coffee table, before very gently lifting Dean up so he could sit on the couch with him. After laying Dean back against his chest, Sam placed the teddy in the crook of Dean's arm, and put one of the cookies in Dean's left hand, and he kept hold of the milk so Dean could dunk his cookie into it. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungy," Dean whispered through his mouthful of cookie, before giving some to his teddy. "Dere go. Woves you Sheffy pie." He smiled at Bobby when he came into the room, and held his cookie up like a prize. "Wook uncy Bow-bee."

Bobby walked over, and ruffled Dean's hair on his way to sit in his chair. "Is that nice, buddy?"

"Yeah. Deanie puts miwk, wook," he said, dunking it into his milk, and taking another bite.

Bobby smiled, and started flicking through the channels to find something to cheer Dean up. He came to a stop when he saw Ace Ventura: Pet detective had just started, and put the remote down. If anything would make the little boy laugh again, it would be the silly antics of Jim Carrey as the pet detective.

Soon the living room was filled with laughter as the tiny toddler enjoyed the funny moments of Ace Ventura. He laughed so much that his fingers started hurting again, the pain exploded in his fingers and radiated up into his arm, making it feel as if his arm was engulfed in a ball of fire.

Sam jumped when Dean suddenly started screaming in pain against his chest. "Bobby, get Dean's medication out of his bag. Shh. It's alright baby, Sammy's here. I've got you. Shh."

"S-Sammy, boo-boo ouchie. Gives kiss," he begged, holding his hand out as high as he could, so his big brother could give him a special kiss.

Laying a gentle kiss to the bandaged hand, Sam smiled and peppered kisses all over the freckles dotting the beloved face of his little brother. "There we go. All better kisses." He took the offered bag from Bobby, and helped his brother take the medication that would hopefully kill his pain.

"D-Deanie has ice ceem? Make b-better," Dean hiccuped through his sobs, looking up at Sam through his big watery green eyes.

Sam smiled. "Of course you can." He was about to stand up when Bobby got up to walk into the kitchen to get the injured little boy his ice cream.

"There ya go, buddy," he said, giving the bowl to Sam so he could help him eat it.

"Here we go. The Winchester express is due for take-off," said Sam, flying the spoon around, and making aeroplane noises, which made Dean giggle as he leaned forward with his mouth open. "Is that nice?" he asked, lowering his head to kiss Dean's forehead. When Dean nodded, Sam helped him eat another mouthful, then kissed his nose. "I love you."

"Woves you," Dean mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream, before turning back to the movie. After every spoonful of the chocolate ice cream, he got another kiss on the forehead or his nose, making him smile even through his pain.

Instead of watching the movie, Bobby was watching Sam look after his brother. He was surprised that Sam had taken so well to the role of big brother/dad since he had never really been around kids since he was one himself, it was usually Dean who dealt with the kids they met during a hunt, but this past month and today especially Sam had been a natural with Dean, and was great at taking care of him. Bobby smiled, it was nice to see Dean being taken care of for once, his whole life had been about taking care of everyone else, so it was nice to see the roles reversed for a change.

"Mistuh funny, Sammy," giggled Dean, pointing at the screen where Jim Carrey was wearing a pink tu-tu and pretending to be crazy.

Sam smiled down at his brother. "Yeah, he is."

When Ace Ventura finished, Sam shifted to lay across the couch with Dean laying against his chest. "Why don't you try and get some sleep. I bet you're exhausted with the day you've had."

Dean sniffled, and whimpered in pain as he curled up on his big brothers chest, being careful of his injured hand. He hugged his teddy in his arms, and closed his eyes. "Deanie sweepy and Sheffy pie sweepy. Sammy sing."

After adjusting the blanket to keep Dean warm, Sam started running his fingers through the toddler's hair, as he sang Dean's special lullaby. "Hush, my little Deanie, it's time to go to bed. So lay down, close your eyes and rest your sleepy head. The sun is down, the moon is up, and the stars are in the skies. So it's time for my little man to close his big green eyes. As you sleep the night away, I'll keep you safe and warm. I'll hold you tight all through the night and keep you safe from harm. Angels are watching over you all through the night. To look after you and protect you until the morning light."

When Sam finished, he looked down and smiled when he saw his little brother was snuggled up asleep in his arms. "Sweet dreams, little man."

***The end***

**Hope you like.**


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